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ST. NICHOLAS: 



AN 



Illustrated Magazine 



For Young Folks 



VOLUME XXXVL 
Part I.— November, 1908, to April, 1909. 



THE CENTURY CO, NEW YORK 

FREDERICK 'WARNE & CO., LONDON. 



Copyright, 1908, 1909, by The Century Co. 



The De Vinne Press. 



Ubrafy, Univ. oi 
Nortl! 



ST. NICHOLAS: 



VOLUME XXXVI. 



PART I. 

Six Months — November, 1908, to April, 1909. 






CONTENTS OF PART I. VOLUME XXXVL 



I 



PAGE 

Afternoon Call, An. Picture, drawn by Florence E. Storer , 248 

April Fool Land. Verse. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) George Phillips 524 

April Philosophy. Verse Pauline Frances Camp . . . 508 

Autumn. Verse. (Illustrated by Emilie Benson Knipe) Alden Arthur Knipe 52 

Ballad of Nobility, A. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) C. F. Lester 427 

Ballooning. ("How It Feels to Fly.") C. H. Claudy 304 

Bear Cub, The Frolics of My Black. (Illustrated from photographs) Mrs. Ernest Harold Baynes 397 

Bold Little Spartan Boy, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Fanny Y. Cory) . .Elizabeth Hill 36 

Boys with a Business. (Illustrated by Walter J. Biggs) Walter Dunham 515 

Breaking the Spell. (Illustrated by Fanny Y. Cory) Dr. John C. Schapps 122 

Broom-straw Kite, A. (Illustrated) I. G. Bayley 550 

Captain Chub. (Illustrated by C. M. Relyea) Ralph Henry Barbour .... 21 

110,229,341,430,525 

Chased by the Ice Jam. (Illustrated by George Varian) /. S. Ellis 517 

Clever Dick. Verse. (IllustFated by R. B. Birch) Frederick Mo.von 391 

Cooking Club, St. Nicholas. (Illustrated by W. J. Scott) Charlotte Brewster Jordan 

Oatmeal Macaroons, Nut Syllabub, Queen Marguerites and Ginger Jacks 62 

Log Cabins, Salted Almonds, Peppermint Fudge and Salad Satellites 158 

Christmas Conserve, Sherbet Surprise, Mock Cream Walnuts, Novices' 

Nut-crisps and Star Spice-snaps 250 

Sweethearts, Hearts of Tongue, Hearty Salad, Cherry Sauce and Cherry 

Sherbet 356 

Green Pea Soup, March Hare, Hibernian Salad, Shamrock Spicelettes and 

Blarney Parfait ; 446 

Hot Cheese Sandwiches, English Monkey, Corn and Eggs with Bacon, 

Panned Oysters on Toast, Little Pigs in Blankets, and Celery Snacks 538 

Coral Necklace, The. (Illustrated by B. J. Rosenmeyer) Grace E. Craig 393 

Crafty Crocodile, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Leslie Brooke) G. F. Hill 349 

Dash for the Pole. A. Picture, drawn by Culmer Barnes 392 

Disobedience. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) Esther F. Hill 67 

Drum to Orchestra. (Illustrated by Harry Fenn) Jessie Katherine Macdonald 

414,541 
Dutchwoman, A Little. (Illustrated from a painting by Willem Van der 

Vliet) Fannie W. Marshall 532 

Easter Bunny, The. Verse. (Illustrated from photographs) M. Josephine Todd 548 

Easter Morning. Picture, drawn by Harriet Repplier 514 

Elves' Calendar, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Albertine Randall Wheelan).?. Virginia Levis 

J anuary 205 

February , 303 

J March 390 

|rt AP"' 5 14 

^ V 



VI CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Father Time and his Children. A Play. (Illustrated by A. D. Blashfield) Marguerite Merington .... 236 

Foot-ball. Verse J. W. Linn 34 

Foot-ball Stars. Picture, drawn by Jay Hambidge 35 

From the Drum of the Savage to the Great Orchestra. (Illustrated by 

Harry Fenn) Jessie Katherinc Macdonald 

414. 541 

Gloves, The. (Illustrated by Julie C. Pratt) Georgiana Homer 237 

Going Bad. (Illustrated by Paul Bransom) 13 

Happychaps, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Harrison Cady) Carolyn Wells, 57, 252 

Hard to Explain. Verse. (Illustrated and engrossed by R. B. Birch) Clara Odell Lyon 295 

Hare and the Tortoise, The. (Illustrated by the Author) ' C.J. Budd 152 

Hearty Greeting, A. Verse. (Illustrated) Marian W. Wildman 392 

Here They Come in the Sleigh ! Picture, drawn by Gayle P. Hoskins 241 

Historic Boyhoods. (Illustrated by W. J. Scott) Rupert Sargent Holland 

Walter Scott : the Boy of the Canongate 64 

Charles Dickens : the Boy of the London Streets 258 

Abraham Lincoln : the Boy of the American Wilderness 312 

Lafayette : the Boy of Versailles 448 

Horner Brothers, The. Verse. (Illustrated by A. D. Blashfield) Elizabeth R. Woodward . . 105 

Horses, Two Famous. (Illustrated by Gilman Low) 55 

Household Fairy, The. Verse Aliec B. Hiding 43 

How Christmas Was Saved. A Play. (Illustrated by Albertine Randall 

Wheelan) Catharine Markham 153 

How Constance Conquered. (Illustrated by Paul Meylan) Augusta H. Seaman 13 

How It Feels to Fly. (Illustrated from photographs) C. H. Claudy 304 

Ivan and the Wolf. Pictures, drawn by Culmer Barnes : 513 

Jungleville Snow-tracks. Pictures, drawn by I. W. Taber 412 

Kite, The City Boy's. Picture, drawn by Wm. St. J. Harper 500 

Kite-time Has Come Again ! Picture, drawn by Laetitia Herr 550 

Landseer. ("The Little Dog-boy.") Louise Fanshaive Gregory. 496 

Larry O'Keefe. Verse. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) Ez'a L. Ogden 134 

Lass of the Silver Sword, The. (Illustrated by C. M. Relyea) Mary Constance Dubois . . 126 

213,296,404,501 

Latter-day Paul Revere, A. Verse /. W. Foley 547 

Lesson Learned, The. (Illustrated by Ethel Franklin Betts) Kathryn Jarboe 202 

Life-savers, The. (Illustrated by Gayle P. Hoskins) Arthur W. Stace 46 

Little Dog-boy, The. (Illustrated from paintings by Landseer) Louise Fanshawe Gregory. 496 

Little Maid OF Honor, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Hilda Belcher) Carolyn Wells 121 

Little Princess of the Fearless Heart, The. (Illustrated by E. M. 

Wireman) B.J. Daskam 318 

Magic. Verse Edward N. Teall 396 

Magicians, Methods of. (Illustrated by H. Linnell and Jay Hambidge) . . . .Henry Hatton and 

Adrian Plate 451, 534 

Mem. 7 A. M. Verse. (Illustrated by Dobson) Frederick Moxon 133 

Millie's Birthday Clock Ida Kenniston 445 

Monarchs of the Ice-floes. (Illustrated by the Author) Frank Stick 106 

Mumps, The. Picture, drawn by Blanche V. Fisher 436 

Mystery, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Florence E. Storer) George Phillips 437 

November. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) May Aiken 56 

November Cheer. Verse /. Clarkson Miller 66 

Owl, a Pet. ("The Visit of Wee Shadow") 39 

Pensioner IN Gray, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Harriet A. Newcomb) ...Marian Longfellov.' 11 

Peterkin Paul. Verse. (Illustrated and engrossed by R. B. Birch) Clara Odell Lyon 213 

Raccoon and Boy. Picture, drawn by Culmer Barnes 325 

Race in Fairyland, A. Picture, drawn by Harrison Cady 340 

Red Cross Society, The. (Illustrated) M. G. Medcalf 522 

Red Riding Hood, A Modern. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) C. J. Budd 311 



CONTENTS VII 

PACE 

Road TO Fairyland, The. Verse. (Illustrated by Ethel Franklin Betts) Cecil Cavendish 125 

Robin and the Bee, The. Verse John Lea 38 

Santa Claus's Note-book. (Illustrated by W. T. Benda) Lilian B. Miner 160 

Santa's Surprise Party. Verse. (Illustrated by George Varian) Gladys Hyatt Sinclair 164 

Seasons, The. Verse Edwin L. Sabin 56 

Sled that Ran Away, The. (Illustrated by W. J. Scott) Marian Warner Wildman . . 387 

Son of the Desert, A. (Illustrated by Thornton Oakley) Bradley Gilman 3 

140,205,325,421,488 

Spring Cleaning, The. (Illustrated by Harrison Cady) Frances Hodgson Burnett 

99, 242 

Spring-time Wish, A. Verse Isabel Ecclestone Mackay. 540 

Stop-over Christmas, A. (Illustrated by J. L. S. Williams) Claire H. Giirney 148 

Teasles. (Illustrated by Fanny Y. Cory) Dr. John C. Schapps 353 

Thanksgiving. (Illustrated) Rebecca Harding Davis . . 42 

Three Queens AT Melun, The. Verse. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) Arthur Upson 44 

Ticklish. Verse. (Illustrated and engrossed by the Author) L. /. Bridgman 160 

Time Shop, The. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) John Kendrick Bangs 195 

Toys Designed by a Famous French Artist. (Illustrated from photographs )Fra»C(?j M. Sheaf er 438 

Unselfish Betty. Picture, drawn by Blanche V. Fisher 10 

Vanity. Verse. (Illustrated by the Author) Culmer Barnes 257 

Visit of Wee Shadow, The. (Illustrated by Ethel Kendall) Eva Wilkins 39 

Weather Rhyme, A. Verse Mary Rolofson 436 

West Point of To-day, The. (Illustrated from photographs) Col. Charles IV. Lamed 27 

What Diffidence Did. (Illustrated by Arthur Becher) Augusta Huiell Seaman . . 483 

What We Can. (Illustrated) Rebecca Harding Davis . . 249 

When I Grow Up. (Illustrated by the Author) . . .- '. W. W. Denslozv 

The Autoist 17 

The Pirate 117 

The Clown 221 

The Knight 225 

The Cowboy 333 

The Actor ; . . . 441 

The Fireman 509 

When Kent Played Engineer. (Illustrated by I. W. Taber) Charles P. Cleaves 291 

When the Wind Blows. Verse Jennie LaRue Johnston ... 152 

Winter. Verse. (Illustrated by Emilie Benson Knipe) Alden Arthur Knipe 260 

Word of a Gentleman, The. Verse. (Illustrated by W. J. Scott) Nora Archibald Smith .... 316 

Words. Verse. (Illustrated by F. S. Gardiner) Marian Kent Hurd 521 

Yule 'Tide Lights, The. Verse. (Illustrated by W. J. Scott) Laura Alton Payne loS 

Zebra, The. Verse. (Illustrated by R. B. Birch) Clara Odell Lyon 540 

FRONTISPIECES. 

"Dolly," by John da Costa, facing page 3 — "A Christmas Feast of Olden Time," by Julie C. 
Pratt, facing page 99 — "Glad to See You, My Boy," by R. B. Birch, facing page 195 — "Kathleen," 
from a painting by Harrington Mann, facing page 291 — "On the Great Waters Under Wintry Skies," 
by I. W. Taber, facing page 387 — " Diffidence Unclasped the Locket and Laid It on the Ever-Increas- 
ing Pile," by Arthur Becher, facing page 483. 

DEPARTMENTS. 
For Very Little Folk. (Illustrated.) 

The Fine, Good Show Jessie Wright Whitcomb . . 68 

What Would You Say? Edith Sanford Tillotson . . 167 

The New Year's Gift ■ Jessie Wright Whitcomb . . 262 



vni CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A Funny Family J. C. Pratt 265 

A Teddy Bear Valentine Albertinc Randall Whcelan 358 

My Sled Gertrude Crownfield 358 

Rebecca Eleanor Piatt 455 

Bab's Birthday Cake 456 

Which Do You Choose ? 457 

Seven Little Mice Stella George Stent 457 

The Wee Hare and the Red Fire A. L. Sykes 551 

Plays. (Illustrated.) 

How Christmas Was Saved Catharine Markham 153 

Father Time and his Children Marguerite Merington .... 236 

Nature and Science. (Illustrated) yz, 168, 266, 360, 458, 554 

St. Nicholas League. (Illustrated) 80, 176. 274, 368, 466, 562 

The Letter-box. (Illustrated) 92, 188, 286, 380, 478, 574 

The- Riddle-box. (Illustrated) 95, 191, 287, 383, 479, 575 

Editorial Notes 92, 188 




[The entire contents of this Magazine are covered by the general copyright, and articles must not be reprinted without special permission. ] 

CONTENTS OF ST. NICHOLAS FOR NOVEMBER, 1908. 

Frontispiece. "Dolly." From a Painting by John da Costa Page 

A Son of the Desert. Serial Story Bradley Oilman 3 

Illustrated by Thornton Oakley. 

Unselfish Betty. Picture Blanche V.Flsher 10 

The Pensioner in Gray. Verse Marian Longfellow 11 

Illustrated by Harriet A. Newcomb. 

" Going Bad." Picture Paul Bransom 12 

How Constance Conquered. Story Augusta H. Seaman 13 

Illustrated by Paul Meylan. 

When I Grow Up. Verse w. w. Denslow 

The Autoist 17 

Illustrated by the Author. 

Captain Chuh. Serial Story Ralph Henry Barbour 21 

Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. 

The West Point of To-day. Sketch Colonel Charles W. Lamed ... 27 

Illustrated. 

"Foot-Ball." Verse / . J.W.Linn 34 

Future " Stars " of the "Gridironeii Field." Picture Jay Hambldge 35 

The Bold Little Spartan Boy. Verse Elizabeth Hill 36 

Illustrated by Fanny Y. Cory. 

The Robin and the Bee. Verse John Lea 38 

The Visit of Wee Shadow. A True Story EvaWUklns 39 

Illustrated by Ethel Kendall. 

Thanksgiving. Sketch Rebecca Harding Davis 42 

Illustrated by E. C. Caswell. 

The Household Fairy. Verse Alice B. Huiing 43 

The Three Queens at Melun. Verse Arthur Upson 44 

Illustrated by Reginald Birch. 

The Life-Savers. Story Arthur w. stace 46 

Illustrated by Gayle Hoskins. 

Autumn. Verse Alden Arthur Knlpe 52 

Illustrated by Emilie Benson Knipe. 

For Boys and Girls Who Love Horses 55 

Illustrated by Oilman Low. 

The Seasons. Verse Edwin L. Sabln 56 

November. Verse • May Aiken 56 

Illustrated by the Author. 
The Happychaps. Happychapter XI. Verse Carolyn Wells 57 

Illustrated by Harrison Cady. 

St. Nicholas Cooking Club. Verse Charlotte Brewster Jordan 

Goodies for Nutcrack Night 62 

Historic Boyhoods Rupert Sargent Holland 

V. Walter Scott 64 

Illustrated by W. J. Scott. 

" November Cheer." Verse J. Clarkson Miller 66 

Disobedience. Verse Esther F. Hill 67 

For Very Little Folk. 

The Fine Good Show Jessie Wright Whltcomb 68 

Illustrated by Margaret Ely Webb. 

Nature and Science for Young Folks 72 

Illustrated. 
The St. Nicholas League. Awards of Prizes for Stories, Poems, 

Drawings, and Photographs 80 

Illustrated. 

The Letter-Box 92 

The Riddle-Box 95 

The Ce7ttury Co. and its editors receive ntanuscripts and art 7tiaterial, submitted /or publica- 
tion^ only on the understanding that they shall not be responsible for loss or injury thereto 
while in their possession or in transit. Copies of inanuscripts should be retained by the authors. 

Subscription price, J$3.00 a year; single number, 35 cents. The half-yearly parts of ST. NICHOLAS end with the 
October and April numbers respectively, and the red cloth covers are ready with the issue of these numbers ; price 50 cents, by mail, post- 
paid; the two covers for the complete volume, $1.00. We bind and furnish covers for 75 cents per part, or $1.50 for the complete 
volume. In sending the numbers to us, they should be distinctly marked with owner's name, and 54 cents (27 cents per part) should 
be included in remittance, to cover postage on the volume if it is to be returned by mail. Bound volumes are not exchanged for numbers. 

Persons ordering a change in the direction of Magazines must give both the old ^ud the new address in full. No change can be 
made after the 5th of any month in the address of the Magazine for the following month. PUBLISHED MONTH L Y. 

FRANK H. SCOTT, Prest, «— « ^^*,-,,,«*, ^^ „ . ^ ** «. , *^ ,» 

^1^!iIk<^^:'fe"LllTv=o''R?rsecy. T^^ CENTURY CO., Union Square, New York, N.Y. 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




f St. Nicholas 



For 1909 



THE new volume of St. Nicholas, which begins with the November 
number, will offer to its young readers a most attractive list of serial 
features. One of these will be a unique and wonderfully illustrated series of 
humorous rhymes entitled 

*'WHEN I GROW UP" 

By W. W. DENSLOW 

The series will set forth in amusing form the "day dreams" of an 
American youngster, as to the wonderful things which he will achieve in 
his grown up days, as an Admiral, or a Soldier, or an Orator, or a Hunter, 
etc., and each "day dream" will be illustrated, not only with two 

FULL-PAGE PICTURES EV COLOR 
but, in addition to these, with numerous clever Denslow drawings in 
black and white. The text is natural, boylike, and amusing, and the pictures 
are inimitable in fun and of surpassing merit artistically. Of all the artists 
who have made illustrations for young folk, there is probably no other who 
combines in equal degree with Mr. Denslow the gifts of abounding humor, 
bold and masterly skill in drawing, and a genius for decorative effect. 
His fame was long ago established by his drawings for "The Wizard of Oz," and his color books for children, 
such as "Father Goose," "The House that Jack Built," "Humpty Dumpty," etc. But this series, as he 
himself declares, represents the best work that he has ever done, and therefore justifies the heavy expense 
involved, and the great outlay which the Publishers have bestowed upon it. It cannot fail to win wide popularity. 




Another important contribution is the serial story 

"CAPTAIN CHUB" 

By RALPH HENRY BARBOUR 

This story will fitly round out the "Ferry Hill Series" which Mr. Barbour 
has written especially for this Magazine, and will end it in a blaze of glory. 
For, popular as the trio, "Dick," "Harry," and "Roy" are, there can be 
no doubt that the clever and care-free "Chub" Eaton, with his good 
humor and his keen wit, is really the most popular of all. Hitherto he 
has played only a subordinate part, and it is only fair, now, that he should 
occupy the center of the stage as the leading character. Mr. Barbour has 
given him the role of hero for the next twelvemonth and the story also 
chronicles more important happenings than any of the other tales. No 
admirer of those stories should miss reading "Captain Chub." 




ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



ST. NICHOLAS FOR 1909— Continued 



Another serial of absorbing interest to boys is a story 
of adventure entitled 

"A SON OF THE DESERT" 

By BRADLEY GILMAN 

The scene of the story is laid in Egypt, and the hero, after being be- 
friended by a young American boy, repays his obligation in a thrilling 
manner. The story teems with interesting incidents and stirring descrip- 
tion, including an account of a terrific sand storm, and a capture by 
brigands who are outwitted by an explosion of dynamite, and a subter- 
ranean escape. 

Mr. Oilman was a classmate of President Roosevelt at Harvard, and 
this story took shape in his mind during a recent visit to Egypt, in which he had special opportunities for be- 
coming acquainted with many places and features of the country that are not open to the ordinary tourist. He 
has written a story which deserves to rank with the best work of Henty and Mayne Reid in sustained interest 
and a succession of stirring adventures. 




The Magazine will also offer to girl readers a delightful 
and spirited serial story entitled 

"THE LASS OF THE 
SILVER SWORD" 

By MARY CONSTANCE DU BOIS 

Author of "Elinor Arden" and other tales. Though it bears a romantic 
title, the story deals with American girl life, in most entertaining fashion. 
Opening with a basket-ball game and the formation of a league or society 
in a girls' school, the action is speedily transferred to a girls' camp in the Adirondacks, where a fasci- 
nating variety of sports and adventures leads to a culmination of intense power and interest. The two 
leading characters, Jean Lennox and Carol Armstrong, will win the hearts of girl readers everywhere. 




Another series aimed directly at youngsters from six to twelve, is a set of "storiettes," called 

"DOCTOR DADDIMAN'S STORIES." The originaHty and humor of these 

whimsical little tales will charm the whole household. 



« 



On the practical side, also, there will be serial contributions 
that will appeal strongly to both boys and girls. One of 
these, 

The Art of Conjuring" 

By HENRY HATTON 

will not only explain many of the leading tricks performed by conjurers 
on the stage, but will also give directions, bringing these sleight-of-hand 
wonders within the range of Parlor Magic, and enabling boys to perform 
the same tricks themselves. 

Mr. Hatton was for several years a public performer and is well 
known as one of the most expert conjurers of the day. 




ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



ST. NICHOLAS FOR 1909— Continued 




A companion series of a very different sort is intended for 
iris, and will consist of two pages each month devoted to 



cc 



The Cozy Cooking Club 

By CHARLOTTE BREWSTER JORDAN 



>» 



« 




The "cooking" will be hardly more than play, for the recipes will be of 
the simplest kind and given in easy rhyme (with, of course, a brief prose 
list of ingredients). Moreover, the things to be "cooked," are simple 
dainties specially appropriate to the season. For instance, in November, 
"GOODIES FOR NUT-CRACK NIGHT" including " Mock-nut 
Wafers, Nut Syllabub, Hallowe'en Fudge." Each month of the year will 
thus have its own menu, and the girls will find its preparation only fun, 
but with a delicious reward. 

Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett 

will contribute a " Queen Silverbell " story 

THE SPRING CLEANING 

As told by Queen Cross-Patch" 

which will be eagerly welcomed by all — and especially 
by readers of the other Silverbell stories, "The Cozy 
Lion," " Racketty-Packetty House," etc. 

MRS. REBECCA HARDING DAVIS 

will contribute a set of brief little talks under such taking titles as 
"WHAT WE CAN," "A NEW YEAR'S HINT," "THREE USE- 
FUL LIVES," "HOMELY HINTS FOR EVERY DAY, "etc., and the 
bits of wisdom and timely suggestion which she offers will be eagerly 
welcomed by many boys and girls. 

"HISTORIC BOYHOODS" 

By RUPERT SARGENT HOLLAND 

will be continued, and will present brief and pithy accounts of the boyhood 
of famous men, including "SIR WALTER SCOTT," "CHARLES 
DICKENS," "FREDERICK THE GREAT," "LAFAYETTE," and 
our own great American President, "ABRAHAM LINCOLN." 

THE ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 

° '■'-"•- has proven its great value and its popularity during the past year, as never 

before. There has been a steady increase in the membership itself, as 

well as in the number of contributions received, while the stories, poems, 

and sketches also, are constantly mounting to a higher level of merit. 

It is impossible to overestimate the beneficial influence — both in the home and the school — of this organization, 

with its thousands and thousands of active-minded boys and girls, who, though personally unknown to one 

another, are all vitally interested, each month, in competition among themselves, in literary composition, drawing, 

photography, and the solving of puzzles. 

The next year, the tenth since its foundation, promises to be in all respects the most successful year in its history. 
"NATURE AND SCIENCE," also, is more interesting than ever, and popular with both teachers and 
scholars all over the country. 

Of the abundant short stories, sketches, poems, rhymes, and pictures in the new volume, any detailed 
mention jnust be deferred. But they will all 7naintain the high reputation which "St. Nicholas " has 
long held as a treasure house of the very best reading, instructioii, and amusemetit for boys and girls. 

Price, Sj-oo a year. Send in renewals early to avoid a break in the receipt of jnagazines. 

THE CENTURY CO., Union Square, NEW YORK. 




ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




Books for Boys and Girls 

THE SPRING-CLEANING • 

A new " Queen Silver-bell " story by Frances Hodgson Burnett, 
author of "Little Lord Fauntleroy," etc. 

This is the most tenderly humorous and charming story of this deliciously 
whimsical and fascinating series of "Queen Silver-bell" fairy tales. It 's 
an ideal Christmas stocking and birthday small book, with twenty appeal- 
ing" pictures in color by Harrison Cady, and blue cloth cover with picture 
in color. 60 cents 

HARRY'S ISLAND 

By Ralph Henry Barbour, author of "The Crimson Sweater," "Tom, Dick, and Harriet," etc. 

The story of a summer's camping-out experiences, a book overflowing with wholesome and jolly 
fun for wholesome and jolly young people — the best of this popular author's many popular stories. 
Illustrated by Relyea. $1.50 

THE HAPPYCHAPS 

Merry verses by Carolyn Wells. More than one hundred merry pictures by Harrison Cady 

The Happychaps are a dear, quaint, funny small folk, whose doings and sayings make up a jolly 
and delightful book for young and old. $i-50 

FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS I HAVE KNOWN 

By Major-General O. O. Howard 

The best Indian book for boys ever written, in which the last living division commander of the 
Civil War tells of his many experiences, friendly and hostile, with different Indian braves. 
Illustrated by Varian and from photographs. $i-50 

THREE YEARS BEHIND THE GUNS 

"The true chronicles of a 'diddy-box,'" by "L. G. T." 

The most intimate record yet penned of life aboard an American man-of-war ; and boys big and 
little will find it a splendidly stirring and altogether fascinating story of sea life and adventure. 
Illustrated by Jorgensen and from photographs. $i-50 

BROWNIE CLOWN OF BROWNIETOWN 

The first Brownie book in color. Pictures and verses by Palmer Cox, of Brownie fame 

One hundred pages of Brownie quaintness and jblly fun, and ridiculous doings, with many of the old 
favorites, and some new characters playing pranks. Board covers with picture in color. $1.00 

* 1x1 1 Zul By Agnes McClelland Daulton, author of "From Sioux to Susan," etc. 

A pretty tale of a motherless child's adventures, for boys and girls of all ages. 

Illustrations by Florence E. Storer. $l-5o 

Let us send you a copy ofournew catalogue, charmingly illustrated by John Wolcott Adams, and containing 

a valuable "Classified List of Books for Young Folks,'''' showing books best adapted to children of different 

ages, whether for boys or girls, etc. Invaluable to book buyers. 

THE CENTURY CO. ^1^ UNION SQUARE, NEW YORK 




ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




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1-2 



ST. NICHOLAS 



Vol. XXXVI 



NOVEMBER, 1908 



No. 1 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



ۥ 



BY BRADLEY OILMAN 



Chapter I 
"better than foot-ball" 

It is not very good fun for a boy of fifteen to sit 
at a window and watch other boys play foot-ball ; 
if he has any spirit in him he longs to go and 
take a hand in the sport ; but if the doctor has 
warned him solemnly not to go out unless the 
sun is shining, he would do well to heed the 
warning, and restrain his impatience as best he 
can, and get what little fun he may from watch- 
ing the game. But it was only natural, I admit, 
that impatient Ted Leslie should be drumming 
restlessly upon the window-pane. 

Ted's home was in Lexington, Massachusetts, 
a few miles north of Boston ; but he was living 
in lodgings, for a few months, with his father 
in that quarter of London known as Hampstead. 

Just at the point where Ted thought he could 
not possibly stay in any longer, the door of the 
library opened, and his father entered, 

One glance through the window, and another 
at his pale hollow-eyed boy, and Colonel Leslie 
grasped the situation. He went over toward the 
open wood fire, backed up to it in a comfortable 
position and remarked : "I wonder if there is 
anybody around here who would like to take a 
trip to Egypt?" 

He looked steadily at the rug under his feet as 
he spoke, as if he were studying its texture; but 
a twinkle was in his eyes, and a smile played 
about the corners of his mouth. 

Ted Leslie drew a long breath, glanced at his 
father, and quite forgot about his youthful 

Copyright, 1908, by The Cen 



friends and their game of foot-ball outside. The 
two were more like older and younger brothers 
than like father and son. Ted's mother had died, 
years before, and the Colonel had drawn very 
close to his boy, and had taken him frequently on 
journeys in Europe. 

Ted rose slowly, still keeping his inquiring 
gaze fixed upon his father, and came over to the 
fireplace. He walked insecurely: evidently he 
was recovering from a serious illness. He took 
hold of the lapels of his father's loose coat, and 
asked, with a mischievous air of scolding au- 
thority: "What is the meaning of that remark? 
Come, out with it, sir." 

Colonel Leslie's face now changed to a more 
serious expression. He took his boy's thin hands 
in both his own and said: "Well, this is what I 
mean, Ted. My old friend. General Hewatt, who 
is stationed at Cairo, has been home for a fur- 
lough ; I met him last week at the Army and 
Navy Club, where, as you know, I have a non- 
resident membership. He is to return to his post 
in Egypt next week. Now, it occurred to me," 
here the quizzical expression came back to his 
kind face, "that if you happened to know a young 
fellow of about your size, a young fellow, I 
say, who has been having a rather hard run of 
illness, and so needs a warmer, drier climate 
than London offers, — well, you might say to such 
a young chap that General Hewatt is willing to 
pilot him to Egypt, and entertain him there for a 
few months, until the extremely hot weather 
comes on." 

Ted Leslie's face began to tinge with red, and 

TURY Co. All rights reserved. 
3 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



[Nov., 



he felt his heart thumping with eagerness. "I 'd 
Hke to go!" he broke out. "By jingo, I would!" 

"Well, Ted, my lad, your health is of the ut- 
most importance to me, and the climate in and 
around Cairo will be just right for you, during 
the next three months. So I think you might 
write a letter to your cousin Bob Laurie, in 
Boston, to tell him the scheme, and let him alter 
his plan about coming over, if he needs to do so." 

Ted Leslie's face was flushed and his hands 
were moist with excitement. His watchful 
father observed this, and at that moment the sun 
began to break through the heavy enveloping 
London fog. So Colonel Leslie said : "Come, 
Ted, let 's go for a drive in the park." 

The two were soon in the Colonel's dog-cart, 
rolling along the level roads of Hyde Park, 
"talking things over," and more calmly planning 
for Ted's journey. "I like General Hewatt 
very much," he remarked, "or I would n't quite 
care to go so far away with him." 

"The General is, you know, a brave soldier, a 
veteran of the wars in India and Afghanistan, 
and he is just now commandant of a large prison 
near Cairo. You will have to obey him better 
than you do me, my boy, or he will lock you up " 
said Colonel Leslie. 

Ted answered with a pinch of his father's arm, 
and asked: "When do we start. Daddy?" 

A slight clouding of the loving father's face 
was unnoticed by the lad, as the Colonel re- 
sponded : "Early next week, Ted. That is rather 
short notice, for to-day is Thursday ; but I think 
we can fit you out, and— and you will have a fine 
holiday, and you will come back wonderfully re- 
cruited in strength and health." 

Ted drew close to his father, as he thought of 
the impending separation, and his heart was not 
altogether joyful. He knew— for he was a 
thoughtful lad — that hard as such a parting 
would be to himself, it would be even harder for 
his father; and he realized that only a parent's 
intense anxiety about his boy's health would have 
led him to suggest and arrange such a journey 
and so long an absence. 

After an hour's drive, Colonel Leslie returned, 
by way of Piccadilly, to the Army and Navy 
Stores, where he produced a list, already care- 
fully drawn up, of articles which Ted would 
need. This list was lengthened by the lad's sug- 
gestions, and Ted soon lost his mood of depres- 
sion in the excitement of the purchasing. Then 
they drove back to their lodgings in Hampstead, 
and Ted returned to the big chair by the win- 
dow. But he did not notice that the game of 
foot-ball, outside, had ceased ; for he had now 
abundant cause for eager, joyous anticipation. 



Chapter H 



OFF FOR EGYPT 



"Take good care of him. General !" was Colonel 
Leslie's last injunction, as he parted from his 
faithful old friend. General Hewatt, and from 
Ted, at the wharf. "Treat him exactly as if he 
were your own son I And I trust that he will 
prove no discredit to either you or myself." 
Then Colonel Leslie walked briskly but with a 
lonely heart up the landing-stage, and disap- 
peared in the crowd. 

Ted subdued, as best he could, the swelling 
emotions of his warm young heart, and tried to 
take an interest in the final preparations which 
were going on upon the great P. & O. steamship 
which was to be his home for the next fortnight. 

He felt the greatest confidence in General 
Hewatt, of the British army, his father's intimate 
and trusted friend; and the grizzled old veteran, 
with his scarred, resolute face and clear gray 
eyes, was indeed a man to be trusted. 

After stowing away their luggage in the small- 
est space and the most orderly manner, the two 
fellow-voyagers went on deck, and found that the 
great steamship was already well down the river 
and her decks were assuming a snug, orderly ap- 
pearance. Ted glanced about him at the other 
passengers, and tried to judge their characters 
and guess their destinations. Several military- 
looking men were walking up and down the 
promenade deck ; they were probably returning 
to posts in Lidia, going by way of the Suez 
Canal. A few women also were visible, most of 
them seeming rather forlorn, and inclined more 
to talk of "old England" than of India or Aus- 
tralia. 

In due time Ted came to know most of the 
passengers. General Hewatt found two or three 
old army friends, and introductions were in 
order. 

The days passed pleasantly. The staunch old 
P. & O. steamer ploughed her way down through 
the Bay of Biscay, entered the Strait of Gibral- 
tar, and pushed on and on over that vast inland 
ocean, the Mediterranean Sea. Ted had been 
over the route, in part, once before, so that the 
lighthouses and "old Gib" were familiar land- 
marks to him. 

As the steamship drew near Alexandria, where 
General Hewatt and his ward were to disembark, 
Ted was struck by the low, flat character of the 
land. There were no lofty rose-tinted, blue- 
veiled mountain ranges to catch the eye, twenty 
miles away, as in Spain and along the African 
coast near the strait ; indeed, no land whatever 
was visible until after the lighthouse, at the en- 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



trance of Alexandria Harbor, had been discerned 
above the blue ocean for half an hour. Then 
gradually came into view a flat, yellow shore and 
the white walls of the city itself, with the Khe- 
dive's seashore palace, most prominent and pleas- 
ing of all the buildings. 

Ted had been slowly gaining in strength, day 
by day, and his interest was now greatly aroused 



few phrases, such as "Tah-la hhenna ! (Come 
here ! ) " and 'Tmshi ruhh ! (Go away ! ) " 

His stock of words grew rapidly in numbers ; 
and, after the steamer had entered the harbor, 
and when the native boatmen, in red shirts and 
blue shirts, and many-colored turbans, and red 
tarbooshes, and dirty, baggy knee-breeches and 
bare legs, — when these fellows, at the giving of 




TED AND THE DONKEY-BOYS. (SEE NEXT PAGE. 



b the Land of the Nile which lay before them. 
He had brought with him two or three books on 
Egypt, among which, of course, was a guide- 
book. He had read industriously, during the 
voyage, and had tried his hand, or, rather, his 
tongue, at a few Arabic words and phrases. He 
found the language much harder to pronounce 
than French or German ; some of the words had 
harsh, guttural sounds not only at the ends, like 
many German words, but at the beginning also 
and even in the middle. Nevertheless, he tried to 
learn the first ten numbers, and memorized a 



a signal, swarmed up from their rowboats to the 
steamer's deck, he was really able to help him- 
self with them, nicely, by a judicious use of the 
Arabic he had gained. As for General Hewatt, he 
was quite at home now; he spoke Arabic fluently, 
having learned it thoroughly after he was forty 
years old. 

So General Hewatt strolled leisurely with him 
about the fascinating lanes and byways of the 
famous city of Cleopatra ; and the picturesque 
costumes and the strange customs were an end- 
less source of delight; and Ted was fortunate. 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



[Nov., 



indeed, in having for a companion a person of 
such experience and judgment as his father's old 
friend. General Hewatt was as good as a walk- 
ing guide-hook, and, in fact, very much better. 
He knew all that Baedeker knew, and much more. 

The sight-seeing hours of the two days in 
Alexandria passed swiftly. Ted took good long 
nights of sleep, and evidently was none the worse 
for his strolls about the city. And on the third 
day the two companions, now becoming very 
close friends despite the difference in their ages, 
set out for Cairo. 

When they reached there, our friends debated 
a little as to what hotel they would choose. Gen- 
eral Hewatt wished to remain a few days in the 
city to attend to some official business, before 
going fifteen miles out of the city to the great 
prison of Tourah, of which he was commandant. 
"Once," said he, "there was only one well-known 
and well-kept hotel here in Cairo ; that was 
Shepheard's, made famovis by all the books of 
Egyptian travel ; but now there are several 
others, equally good. Yet to me the old hotel is 
still the social center, the real rendezvous of tour- 
ists, in all the city." So to Shepheard's they 
went ; and Ted soon found no end of entertain- 
ment in sitting upon the low terrace in front of 
the famous hotel and watching the various types 
and races included in the throngs which passed 
on the sidewalk. 

There were venders of all sorts of knick- 
knacks, exhumed images and coins, and brilliant 
draperies and rich rugs. To Shepheard's also 
came all the sidewalk acrobats and jugglers and 
snake-charmers. The whole day, during the sea- 
son, from November to April, is like a variety- 
show, and is admirably adapted to the needs. of 
people, invalids like our young friend Ted, 
who wish to sit in the balmy open air and be 
amused. 

Ted restrained his eager curiosity, on the 
whole, fairly well. The lad had splendid control 
of himself, as a rule ; but one day he sauntered 
over to the Ezbekiah Garden, a few rods away, 
where were , gathered scores of donkey-boys, 
awaiting patrons; coarse, bold fellows they were, 
of the fellaheen class, and they accosted every 
passer-by with vigor, and noisily sounded the 
praises of their various donkeys. "Here you 
are ! Here 's Mark Twain ! Here 's General 
Grant ! Here 's a good donkey, Mary Ander- 
son !" And so on, evidently having taken the 
names of their beasts from celebrities who had 
formerly visited Cairo. 

K left to themselves, these rough fellows, six- 
teen to twenty years old, do no more than pro- 
claim the merits of their "mounts" ; but woe to 



any tourist who, unsupported by a native drago- 
man or guide, shows an inclination to select one 
of the donkeys ; the donkey-boys crowd upon 
him, pushing and abusing one another, with great 
discomfort and even danger to the tourist. It is 
always best to have your dragoman engage your 
donkey for you, and this was what Ted should 
have done. But thoughtlessly he went across to 
the disorderly mob of donkey-boys and asked 
"Bee-kam? (How much?)" 

In an instant the whole mass of donkeys and 
donkey-boys surged toward him, and brown arms 
and harsh voices were raised in fierce competi- 
tion. 

So bent were they all upon getting near this 
possible patron that they pushed violently, and 
kicked one another; and those behind crowded 
those in front ; so that in a moment or two Ted 
was rudely hustled about and nearly deafened by 
the noise. 

He backed against the high iron fence which 
surrounds the Ezbekiah, and motioned the fellows 
to keep away. "Imshi ! Imshi, ruhh!" he cried. 
But his voice was drowned in the tumult. The 
rapacious donkey-boys acted like a gang of jack- 
als around a wounded camel left on the caravan- 
route. 

Then Ted became angry ; first surprised, then 
annoyed ; then very angry. And with a sudden 
access of his old-time spirit and strength, he 
shot out his right fist and then his left, and he 
struck the dirty, ugly brown faces with all his 
force. 

That was exactly the proper course to pursue, 
as General Hewatt afterward told him ; the don- 
key-boys of Cairo are not much above the level 
of beasts, and the only way to deal with them is 
to mete out strict justice. 

Ted's vigorous attack proved efficacious. How 
many ugly, insolent faces he struck he knew not ; 
the fellows who were hit made no attempt to hit 
back ; they knew too well that they were in the 
wrong, and they pushed away from the active 
fists of the pale young traveler with the greatest 
alacrity. And Ted, now feeling the reaction com- 
ing upon his over-taxed nerves, clung for support 
to the iron fence. 

Luckily, a fellow-tourist who had noticed him 
at Shepheard's was at that moment passing; and 
he hurried the lad into his carriage, and carried 
him across to the hotel, where the General found 
him, an hour later, feeling weak, but not seri- 
ously harmed. 

There were so many matters which General 
Hewatt needed to attend to, after his absence in 
England, and there was so much that Ted wished 
to see in Cairo, that the General put the lad in 



igoS.] 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



charge of a fellow-officer, and told him to stay 
at Shepheard's a month, before coming out to 
take up his quarters at Tourah. 

Lieutenant Whitmore, the officer thus intrusted 
with Ted's sight-seeing, was an excellent fellow, 
of about twenty-eight, a good type of the British 
army man ; and the two became the best of 
friends. They visited the dancing dervishes, and 
the ostrich-farm, and a dozen other interesting 
places. Ted was especially delighted with the 
ostriches. There were hundreds of them, in pens, 
assorted according to age ; and he laughingly told 
Lieutenant Whitmore that he had half a mind to 
try and mount one of the great creatures and 
have a spin out over the desert. 

With the passing of the days in moderate 
sight-seeing, and with plenty of sleep and good 
food, Ted gained steadily in strength and weight. 
He found the mild, dry climate good for his 
sensitive throat and lungs, and the cough which 
had troubled him for several months perceptibly 
diminished. The lad read all the books on Egypt, 
ancient and modern, which he could find; and he 
made surprising progress in learning Arabic; not 
that he expected to master the language, but he 
acquired much more than what Lieutenant Whit- 
more called "kitchen Arabic" — Arabic which will 
enable a European to manage his marketing and 
housekeeping. He was able, ere long, to carry 
on quite a conversation in the Egyptian tongue. 

Chapter HI 

THE PRISON AT TOURAH 

There was nothing in Tourah but the prison ; 
the prison was Tourah: a half dozen four-story 
stone buildings, set in a vast rectangular inclosure 
of white glaring stone wall, twenty feet high and 
four feet thick ; upon this wall black sentinels in 
khaki, with loaded rifles, ceaselessly patrolled, 
proud of their official importance, heedless of the 
hot rays of the sun, ready and even eager to meet 
any attempt at escape, with a ball from their 
Remingtons. The expanse of cloudless sky 
above was matched by the expanse of hot brown 
and red sand below. 

Tourah was a place not usually sought by tour- 
ists ; the very railway trains, which stopped at 
the station near-by, seemed to creep up to it 
reluctantly, and, when leaving, appeared to 
hurry, that they might the sooner pass beyond 
the zone of scorching heat. Within the vast in- 
closure distrust was the watchword ; distrust on 
the part of surly, malicious men who had broken 
the laws of the land ; and distrust on the part of 
stern, self-reliant men who were there to enforce 
the mandates of the law. A taciturn place, where 



the silence was broken by no cheery song or 
laugh, but solely by the muffled throb of the en- 
gines in the low stone building by the west wall, 
and by the curt "click, click, click," from the 
hammers of the convicts, who cut the nummulite 
limestone hewn from the quarries. 

To Ted's fanciful mind it seemed as if a human 
eye, looking down upon it from some point in the 
sky, a half mile above, might have likened Tourah 
prison to a great octopus, with long metallic 
tentacles stretching out, the one toward Cairo, 
the other toward Helouan, the railway terminus, 
and with numerous smaller tentacles of roads and 
paths and dykes, radiating from the great shape- 
less central bulk, with its scores of eyes, the un- 
winking eyes of its grated windows. A huge 
moral desolation it was, rooted firmly in the 
physical desolation of the Arabian desert. 

And yet, to the observant person, there were 
many things beside the stern old prison, and 
Ted soon found them out. From a position on 
the "swell" of the parade-ground one could look 
over the high stone wall which inclosed the total 
prison area; down the slope of land, on the west, 
the eye ran over the narrow fertile strip of culti- 
vated land which borders the Nile. Irrigated by 
the annual overflow, and by the assiduous use of 
"shadoofs" and "sakiyehs," that fertile land edges 
the great life-giving river like a green ribbon. 
Across the Nile, amid the red sand of the Libyan 
desert the pyramids of Dashur and the step- 
pyramid of Sakkara lifted their pointed heads 
in silence and mystery ; along the narrow dykes, 
near the river, trotted heavily-laden donkeys, 
goaded by their remorseless Egyptian drivers. 
At the north one could see the smoke of some 
slow-coming railway train from Cairo ; in a land 
where centuries are no longer than years, why 
should even European locomotives hurry? The 
dead hand of Egypt's antiquity seemed laid upon 
man and beast, and even upon the handiwork of 
man. The very vultures and buzzards in the 
heavens seemed to soar and circle with an eternal 
continuousness. At the east, through the red 
glare of the Arabian desert, the serrated Mokat- 
tam hills were outlined, and their white cliffs 
looked like gigantic gravestones. With a field- 
glass the black mouths of the caverns in their 
sides could be plainly seen ; from those caverns 
were torn, centuries ago, by gasping slaves, 
under relentless taskmasters, the great stone 
blocks which built up the pyramids of Dashur, 
Sakkara, and Gizeh. Along the lower edge of 
the white cliffs could be seen an even white glare 
which marked the position of the terrible "quar- 
ries of Tourah," known and dreaded by every 
convict in the Delta. A delicate pink light, like. 



8 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



a thin flame, played over the intervening space 
as it dances over the surface of a superheated 
furnace. Across the desert, at the south, a long 
train of camels was approaching, majestic, mys- 
terious creatures, high-headed and contemptuous, 
products of silent, sandy centuries. 

Ted was comfortably installed in a semicircu- 
lar room high in the northeast tower of the main 
building. His trunk was unpacked by a Soudan- 
ese soldier, and the lad felt quite at home after 
he had put his father's photograph on the mantel, 
and had written a letter to Bob Laurie, to tell him 
of his trip, thus far. 

Ted was of course free to go anywhere about 
the place that he liked. Usually, however, he 
liked to make his tours in company with General 
Hewatt, the commandant, or with some officer ; 
for thus he could have most of the questions 
answered, which sprang up so readily in his 
active mind. 

One day he was accompanying the General in 
his daily round of inspection, and they entered 
the hospital building. Ted had brought along a 
few bunches of flowers from the flower garden, 
and distributed them among the sick men, some 
of whom, the most feeble or the least violent, 
were in open wards, while others were safely 
locked into cells. 

With his supply of flowers nearly exhausted, 
Ted was following the General along one of the 
corridors, lined with cell doors on either side, 
when from one of the cells, which he had sup- 
posed empty, he heard the sounds of a fresh, 
young voice. The voice was continuous and 
sustained in pitch, as if the speaker were inton- 
ing. Ted paused, and the General mechanically 
did likewise. "Who is in there?" Ted asked, 
with momentary curiosity ; "I thought most of 
the cells were empty." 

The commandant crossed to the iron door, 
pushed aside the little cover over the peep-hole, 
which is cut through all the cell doors in the 
prison, and looked in. "Saying his prayers," he 
replied, and dropped the cover back into its 
place. "A young Arab sent here from Cairo, 
last night ; a savage chap from the desert, they 
report ; killed a man in the Ezbekiah Garden, last 
week ; will have to hang for it, I am afraid." 

Thus briefly disposing of the case, he was 
about to lead the way along the corridors, when 
Ted asked: "Let me have a look at him, please." 
And without waiting for a reply, he went over, 
lifted the little cover, and peered through the 
tiny opening, an inch in diameter. Presently he 
came thoughtfully away and the two continued 
their walk. But the condemned Arab lad at his 
prayers seemed to weigh upon the American 



boy's mind; and, after he had disposed of all his 
flowers, except one little cluster of rosebuds, he 
turned to General Hewatt. "I think I would like 
to go and give these last," he said, "to that 
poor Arab boy, who — who— who is — to be — " 
he hesitated about finishing the ugly sentence 
and hurried impulsively toward the cell. 

With an air of resignation, the commandant 
followed him. While he was taking out his keys 
Ted again lifted the cover of the peep-hole and 
looked in. By this time the condemned youth 
had finished his devotions, and Ted could plainly 
see his slight boyish figure and thin, bronzed 
face, as he paced restlessly, like a caged wild 
animal, up and down the narrow confines of the 
cell. 

"He seems to be about m}^ age," responded 
Ted, sympathetically. "Perhaps a year or two 
older. And he does n't look like a murderer." 

"Appearances are deceitful," responded the 
commandant, with a grim smile, drawing out the 
keys, and awaiting his young friend's pleasure. 

The lad, however, chose to keep his position 
of scrutiny at the keyhole. There was a fascina- 
tion in thus gazing at a condemned prisoner, 
when he was all unconscious of being seen. Ted 
noted the garb of the young Arab, a meager, 
coarse shirt or gown covering his body, leaving 
the brown throat and arms and legs bare ; he saw 
that the youth was standing upon the one straw 
mat which served as a bed, and he was looking 
intently up arid out through the narrow window, 
a mere slit, a few inches wide, in the massive 
wall ; his manner indicated that he was watching 
something. Through that narrow aperture the 
sky could be seen— the clear, free sky, the same 
sky that could be seen from the desert ; and 
occasionally a swallow, on fearless vibrating 
wings, dashed across, just outside the opening; 
while beyond, far up in the blue, a great vulture 
could be discerned, soaring in conscious freedom, 
with pinions slanting to the various air-currents 
as the sail of a felucca slants to the breezes on 
the Nile. 

Ted Leslie kept his position for several min- 
utes. The significance of the scene impressed 
him ; it reminded him of Jules Breton's famous 
picture "The Skylark" — the heart yearning for 
what is above it, while the tired feet are held 
fast on the earth ; the eyes look longingly up- 
ward, but the ideal is beyond the reach of the 
hands. 

Ted reflected, as he silently gazed, that very 
likely this youth was a savage fellow, as General 
Hewatt had said; certainly he was known to 
have killed a fellow-being; but he was a son of 
the desert, a youth accustomed to the free life of 




TED AND LIEUTENANT WHITMOkE SIGHT-SEEING IN CAIRO. 

9 



10 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



the great sand-tract. Here he found himself shut 
within this narrow cell, his movements restrained, 
his actions fettered; only in spirit could he share 
the free life of the winged creatures outside ; 
only in his memories could he live again the un- 
bounded life of God's great world. In his 
dreams, perhaps; he might be free ; ah, was he 
not dreaming, standing there with upturned boy- 
ish face, dreaming of the pathless desert, his true 
home, now shut away from him forever? The 
face was so good a face, so pure and earnest a 
face, that Ted murmured, under his breath, "He 
cannot be, he cannot possibly be so very wicked." 
This youth was of a different type from the 
other criminals. HLs clear eye, his frank counte- 
nance, the very grace of his bodily postures 
showed the difference. Tie probably had slain a 
man, some enemy, perhaps (Ted knew the deep 
Bedawi nature); perhaps he had cause; per- 



haps there was some deep injury to be avenged, 
some mortal feud to be wiped out only in blood. 

As Ted stood thus, sadly musing, stirred by 
sympathy, his finger clicked the little cover of 
the peep-hole. 

At once the sensitive ear of the young prisoner 
caught the faint sound ; he turned instantly, and 
a look of watchful, baffled distrust clouded his 
frank countenance. The situation was unequal ; 
the lad outside, unseen, could observe the prison- 
er's every movement and expression ; the latter 
knew simply that he was being watched; and this 
consciousness found expression in a futile strain- 
ing of the eyes, and then in impotent strides up 
and down his narrow cell. 

Ted Leslie felt, immediately, the unfairness of 
the situation; and, dropping the little cover back 
into its place, he asked the commandant to open 
the door. 



i^To be continued.) 




UNSELFISH BETTY: "WELL, NURSIT IT 
A COMFORT THAT ROSABEL DOES N 
HAVE TO TAKE IT, TOO ! " 




THE PENSIONER IN GRAY 



BY MARIAN LONGFELLOW 



Thou little pensioner in gray, 
W'ho, dauntless, now dost bar my way, 
A\'ith tiny paws upon thy breast 
And eyes that challenge and arrest. 

Prithee what wouldst thou have of me, 
Thou denizen of forest free? 
W'ho all day long in sun or shade 
Thy home in wildwood ways hast made — 

Yet in the city's busy mart, 
'Neath college spires of lore and art. 
Here on the path dost sit and wait 
Under the elm trees at the gate. 

Had I a dole to give thee, dear, 
Who art so wild, yet without fear. 
Gladly would I that proffer make 
For thy sheer courage ; thy bright sake ! 

But, little pensioner, my hands 
Are empty spite of thy demands. 
I can but offer thee a verse 
That shall thy pretty ways rehearse. 

Then, little pensioner in gray, 

Meet me, I pray, another day. 

And I will strive thy grace to find 

Where Cambridge streets 'neath elm trees wind. 






" GOING BAD." 
Drawn by Paul Bransom. 



"GOING BAD" 



The picture on the opposite page illustrates a 
time of danger that is well described, as follows, 
by Mr. Frank C. Bostock in his book : "The Train- 
ing of Wild Animals" : 

"What those who have charge of wild animals 
in captivity, and especially trainers, dread most 
among the lions and tigers, is that unexplainable 
change of temper called 'going bad.' Lions are 
likely to 'go bad' about the tenth year of life; 
tigers two or three years earlier. The male tiger 
is the dread of the profession when he reaches 
this condition, because he is more likely to go 
into a frenzy without warning, and once gone 
bad, nothing will satisfy him but murder. He 
will leap for any man within reach, and when 
once his teeth are on the bone, nothing but fire 
will make him let go — and not always that. 

"This going bad may come in the nature of a 



sudden attack, or it may come on slowly and be 
headed off if taken in time. An old trainer can 
usually detect the symptoms of this curious ail- 
ment. It seems to be in the nature of a disease, 
and other animals recognize it and shun the af- 
fected one. When one is warned of its approach 
the danger is not great ; all that is required then 
is a level head, and the good sense not to inter- 
fere with the animal. 

"A good trainer never dreams of interfering 
with an animal in this condition. If attacked, his 
one aim is to defend himself, until he has a 
chance to escape from the cage, and to separate 
the animal from his fellows as soon as possible. 
Sometimes this bad temper will continue but a 
short time, and again it will become a lasting 
mood. In that case, the lion or tiger is sent to 
the lonely cage to spend the rest of his life there." 



HOW CONSTANCE CONQUERED 



BY AUGUSTA HUIELL SEAMAN 



The long-dreaded time had come. Constance 
was allowed to remain home from school all day, 
so that she might be thoroughly rested and in 
good trim for the evening. 

In all the fifteen years of her life there was 
nothing that Constance Holbrough had ever 
looked forward to with so much mingled antici- 
pation and fear as that recital. She had been 
taking lessons on the piano from Madame de 
Chanwix for four years, but not till now had she 
attained the dignity of being allowed to take part 
in the annual recital of the great Madame's older 
and more advanced pupils. 

And Constance zvas proud of that honor. She 
had really remarkable musical talent ; she was by 
far the youngest of all the performers that sea- 
son, and she was to render a long and exceedingly 
difficult composition— none other than Beetho- 
ven's "Moonlight Sonata" The choice of the 
selection had been Uncle Geoff's. Madame de 
Chanwix had fairly gasped when she was in- 
formed what he wished Constance to play, and 
secretly entertained grave doubts as to whether 
so young a pupil could do justice to the wonder- 
ful composition. But then it was Uncle Geoff 
who was furnishing the means for Constance's 



music lessons, and his wishes were not to be 
lightly disregarded. Therefore, they started in 
bravely, several months before the appointed 
time ; and before long it became evident that Con- 
stance would be equal to her task. In six weeks 
she had mastered the technical part, and in six 
more she was able to execute the entire piece 
without her notes, and with extremely creditable 
expression and style. 

Constance loved the "Moonlight Sonata," both 
for itself, and for the beautiful story that Uncle 
Geoff had told her of how it came to be written : 
How the great master, while out walking one 
moonlight evening, happened to pass a cottage 
whence came the sound of a piano playing one of 
Beethoven's own compositions. How he knocked 
and, though a stranger, gained admittance, and 
found that the musician was a young blind 
girl. How he had asked permission to play, and 
seating himself, rendered exquisitely the music 
she had striven inadequately to draw forth, and 
the inhabitants of the cottage knew that their 
visitor was none other than Beethoven himself. 
Uncle Geoff told her how, when he had ended, he 
looked toward the window and said: "I will im- 
provise a sonata to the moonlight," and under his 



14 



HOW CONSTANCE CONQUERED 



touch the gracious harmonies grew Hke the silver, 
shimmering light, transmuted into sound; and, 
when the last note died away, and the wondering 
listeners pressed him with further hospitality, he 
refused to stay, saying that he must hurry home 
to write down the new sonata before it escaped 
him. 

Constance thought of this story whenever she 
played it, and once or twice, on a moonlight 
night, she had turned down the light, raised the 
shades, and in the semi-darkness had tried it 
over for Uncle Geoff, as they sat together in the 
moonlit parlor. To her own and his astonishment, 
she found that she was able to do so without a 
mistake. 

"I believe it 's because I 'm thinking of the 
story," she exclaimed, "and not about my notes!" 

Uncle Geoff was delighted. "Constance," he 
announced, "if you do as well as that on the night 
of the recital, I '11 take you with me on my trip 
to Europe this summer." 

That almost took Constance's breath away. 

"Oh, Uncle Geoff, you darling!" she replied. 
"I can hardly believe it. But there 's just one 
trouble. It 's all right when I play for just you, 
or Mother and Father, but I 'm horribly nervous 
about playing before many people. I alv^/ays 
make some dreadfvd mistake, or have to stop en- 
tirely. I 'm certain I '11 do something awful on 
the night of the recital. I fairly shake with 
fright whenever I think of it ; but, oh ! I do so 
want to go to Europe with you!" 

"You may be frightened for a moment or two, 
when you begin, but that will pass away, and 
I 've perfect faith in you, that you will do well. 
Remember, Constance, I have absolute confidence 
in you, and you must n't disappoint me!" an- 
swered Uncle Geoff. 

Thus, on the morning of the eventful day, was 
Constance filled with delightful anticipation and 
nervous dread. So much hung in the balance : 
not only the trip to Europe, and the approval of 
her parents and friends, but Uncle Geoff's con- 
fidence in her. And, somehow, that counted most 
of all. 

Madame had advised her not to practise much 
that day, but twice she went to the piano and 
played the sonata through, and each time she 
made several new and hitherto unthought-of 
mistakes. This, of course, worried her greatly, 
and added to her nervousness. In the afternoon, 
her mother insisted that she must lie down and 
try to take a nap. But sleep was far from her, 
and her restless fingers were constantly shaping 
themselves to execute the familiar chords and 
runs. Finally, after an early dinner, the time 
came for her to be arrayed in the dainty blue 



crepe-de-chine dress that her mother's skilful fin- 
gers had for days past been fashioning. Then 
they were all whirled away in the carriage Uncle 
Geoff had provided for the occasion. A splendid 
full moon flooded the May landscape with almost 
the brightness of day. 

"This is just the night for a 'moonlight sonata,' 
little one," whispered Uncle Geoff, pinching the 
serious face laughingly. "Cheer up, my hearty!" 

But Constance was feeling anything but cheer- 
ful, and grew soberer every moment. The next 
thing she knew, they were in the great studio, 
unfamiliar in its gorgeous decorations, and rows 
upon rows of chairs steadily being filled by in- 
vited guests and friends of the students. 

Constance found herself seated by the two 
grand pianos, among a crowd of pupils gaily 
dressed, all older than herself— some long since 
"grown up." They were all chattering among 
themselves, and nervously fussing with their 
music, ribbons, and bouquets. She felt very 
much alone, and horribly frightened. The white 
glare of the electric lights, the sea of unfamiliar 
faces, Madame de Chanwix moving about majes- 
tically in a wonderful spangled robe, the ceaseless 
buzz of conversation all over the fast-filling 
room, oppressed the nervous girl with a dreary 
sense of forlornness. In a far corner she 
could catch a glimpse, now and then, of Uncle 
Geoff's smiling face. She longed to rush to him, 
implore him to take her away, and never, never 
ask her to play a note of music again. 

Suddenly Madame stepped to the front of the 
pianos and there was a hush. The silence seemed 
to Constance more appalling than the previous 
noise. The program was to begin with an eight- 
handed selection on the two pianos. Constance 
fairly jumped at the crash of sound with which 
it commenced, but the remainder of it was only 
an unmeaning, idle clatter in her ears, and she 
sat with her hands gripped together in her lap ; 
for her turn was to come next. 

There was a burst of applause as the music 
ceased, and then another tense silence. Con- 
stance wished madly that they would all chatter 
and buzz again as they had before the program 
commenced. As Madame led her to the piano, 
she broke into a cold perspiration, and her knees 
shook so that she could hardly walk. In all her 
consciousness, nothing stood out but the blinding 
glare of the lights, and the sea of staring faces. 

She was to play without her notes, and when 
she was seated she raised her hands to the keys. 
Then she realized with a great throb of her 
heart, that she could not, for the life of her, re- 
member how the thing began. Her memory was 
as blank of all those months of practice as 





HER THOUGHTS WERE BACK IN ANOTHER CENTURY AND ANOTHER LAND. 

IS 



16 



HOW CONSTANCE CONQUERED 



though she had never touched a piano ! Ma- 
dame's quick eye discerned her predicament, and 
in an instant she had the notes on the rack be- 
fore the trembhng girl. 

Constance's fingers found the proper keys and 
she played the opening bar, but in a moment the 
page blurred and became a mere meaningless 
jumble before her eyes. Again she began it, got 
to the same place, and again the notes ran to- 
gether. Then, scarcely knowing what she did, 
she closed the music, left the piano-stool, and 
found herself in her seat. Two or three of the 
pupils giggled hysterically, and she was con- 
scious that Madame was apologizing to the audi- 
ence for her nervousness. Another performer 
took her place and the concert went on. 

Constance heard nothing, saw nothing, real- 
ized nothing but the crushing burden of her 
humiliation and defeat. She had forfeited the 
trip to Europe, of course. That was as nothing 
to her now. She only longed for the evening to 
end, that she might crawl away and hide herself 
like some wounded animal. Her parents and 
friends were all sorry for her, and rather 
ashamed of her blunder, she supposed. But even 
that was nothing to the fact that she had forever 
destroyed the confidence of Uncle Geoff. He 
had believed in her. He had spent his money on 
her musical education — and for this! 

She sat white and motionless during the rest of 
the program. Student after student performed 
her part with more or less credit, and was duly 
and enthusiastically applauded. But Constance 
heard naught of it. Her one thought was : "Will 
it never end?" She did not dare to glance at 
Uncle Geoff's corner. Just before the last se- 
lection—another eight-handed piece— some one 
handed Constance a small folded note. She 
opened it mechanically, and read these words: 

I know all about how you felt. Please ask Madame to 

let you try once more, for my sake. Remember, I have 

■perfect confidence in you. ^ 

i J J •' Uncle Geoff. 

The little scrap of paper pierced Constance's 
gloom like a ray of hope. She had n't forfeited 
that confidence yet ! It hardly seemed possible ! 
A moment ago, nothing would have induced her 
to touch the piano again. Now a sudden idea oc- 
curred to her, and she beckoned Madame to her 
side and whispered timidly : 

"I think I could try again, if you wanted me 
tor and, Madame, could you turn out the lights 
and let in a little of the moonlight?" It was a 
novel idea, but Madame was clever enough to 
seize it and put it to excellent use. She stepped to 
the front, and announced that Miss Constance was 
now ready to perform her part— the "Moonlight 



Sonata." Then, in a few short, telling sentences 
she gave the history of its composition — the 
story so dear to Constance — and ended by saying 
that with the permission of the audience, the 
lights would be extinguished and the selection 
rendered in the moonlight. 

With a "click" the electric lights were turned 
off, and simultaneously some one drew up the 
shades of the broad, high studio windows. The 
silvery, misty light fell directly on the piano, and 
left the rest of the room in practical darkness. A 
fragrant May breeze wafted in the perfume of 
the wistaria vines. There was breathless silence 
in the room. 

When Constance again took her place at the 
piano, she found that her heart had stopped the 
terrible thumping, she breathed naturally, and 
her fingers sought and found, without effort, the 
correct opening notes. All the staring sea of 
faces was shut away by the friendly darkness, 
and only the familiar moonlight was about her. 
As the hushed harmonies flowed forth under her 
fingers, almost of their own accord, she forgot 
her audience entirely, and even Uncle Geoff. She 
only heard the indescribable succession of sounds, 
but her thoughts were back in another century 
and another land : in a little cottage where a 
great master was drawing from a humble instru- 
ment the wonder of an improvised moonlight 
sonata. 

When the last chord of the agitato had died 
away, she dropped her hands in her lap, and sat 
dreaming through a moment of intense silence. 
Suddenly there was a deafening burst of ap- 
plause, the lights went up with a snap, and Con- 
stance, dazzled and bewildered, realized that it 
was all over, and for some reason — she could n't 
imagine what — the people were wild with en- 
thusiasm — clapping, cheering, waving handker- 
chiefs, and Madame, with true French effusive- 
ness, was hugging and kissing her, and calling 
her "vun leetle darling!" 

With a half timid bow she reached her seat, 
just as a lovely little bouquet of pink roses was 
handed to her. As the cheering finally ended, 
and the last number was being given, Constance 
came gradually to herself, and knew that she had 
vindicated the faith of her dear ones, and scored 
the success of the evening. Attached to her bou- 
quet was a little envelop, and from it she drew 
a tiny card on which had been hastily scrawled : 

Confidence intact. Trip to Europe safe. Congratula- 
tions ! 

U.xci.E Geoff. 

"But it was only Uncle Geoff's belief in me 
that did it!" sighed Constance happily. 



When I Grow Up 



By W.W. Denslow 



?i- 



COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY W. W. DENSlOW 





T^eAutoist 



I'd like to drive an Auto-Car 
A thousand miles a day, — 

And should I be arrested 

My Pa would have to pay. 



If they'd discharge the Traffic Squad 

And constables, also. 
And put no limit on the speed — 

Well, wouldn't motors go! 



Then we could "honk" through city streets 

As if shot from a gun; 
While over plain and country lane 

We'd make a record run. 

I'd take the "Crimson Terror" then 

Through every foreign clime, 

From Tokio to Timbuctoo, — 
And have a great old time. 

The fastest Autos in the world 

With mine could not compare; 

My "forty-thousand-power" car 
Would beat them everywhere ! 




I 



I 



- CAPTAIN CHUB 

BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR 



Chapter I 



THE STOLEN RUN 



"That settles that," groaned the captain of the 
Crimson nine as the long fly settled gracefully 
into the hands of the Blue's left-fielder. The 
runner who, at the sound of bat meeting ball, had 
shot away from second base, slowed his pace and 
dropped his head disconsolately as he left the 
path to the plate and turned toward the bench. 

"Come on, fellows," said the captain cheerfully. 
"We 've got to hold 'em tight. Not a man sees 
first, Tom; don't lose 'em." 

Pritchett, the Crimson pitcher, nodded silently 
as he drew on his glove and walked across to the 
box. He did n't mean to lose them. So far, at 
the beginning of the ninth inning, it was any- 
body's game. The score was 3 to 3. Pritchett 
had pitched a grand game : had eight strike-outs 
to his credit ; had given but one base on balls, and 
had been hit but three times for a total of 
four bases. For five innings, for the scoring on 
both sides had been done in the first part of the 
game, he had held the Blue well in hand, and he 
did n't mean to lose control of the situation now. 
The cheering from the stands occupied by the 
supporters of the Crimson team, which had died 
away as the unlucky hit to left-fielder had retired 
the side, began again, and continued until the first 
of the blue-stockinged batsmen stepped to the 
plate. 

It was the big game of the year, the final game 
and the deciding one. The stands, which started 
far beyond third base and continued around be- 
hind first, were filled with a gaily-hued throng, 
every member of which claimed allegiance to 
Crimson or Blue. Fully eight thousand persons 
were awaiting with fast-beating hearts the out- 
come of this last inning. The June sun shone 
hotly down, and the little breeze which came 
across the green field from the direction of the 
glinting river did little to mitigate the intolerable 
heat. Score-cards waved in front of red, per- 
spiring faces, straw hats did like duty, and 
pocket-handkerchiefs were tucked inside wilting 
collars. 

Half-way up the cheering section sat a little 
group of freshmen, hot and excited, hoarse and 
heroic. At every fresh demand from the cheer- 
leader they strained their tired lungs to new ex- 
cesses of sound. Now, panting and laughing, they 
fell against each other in simulated exhaustion. 
Vol. XXXVI. -3. 2 



"I wish a thunder-storm would come along," 
said one of the group, weakly. 

"Why?" asked another. 

"So they 'd call the game and I would n't have 
to cheer any more," he sighed. 

"Then why don't you do as Chick does ?" asked 
a third. "Chick just opens his mouth and goes 
through the motions but does n't make a sound." 

"I like that!" exclaimed the maligned one. 
"I 've been making more noise than all the rest of 
you put together. The leader 's been casting 
grateful looks at me for an hour." 

There was a howl of derision from the others. 

"Well," said a tall, broad-shouldered fellow, "I 
don't intend to yell any more until something hap- 
pens, and—" 

"Yell now, then. Porter," said Chick gloomily 
as the first of the opponents' batsmen beat the 
ball to first by a bare inch. But instead of yelling 
Roy Porter merely looked bored, and for a while 
there was silence in that particular part of the 
stand. The next Blue batsman bunted toward 
third, and although he went out himself, he had 
placed the first man on second. The Blue's best 
batters were coming up, and the outlook was n't 
encouraging. The sharp, short cheer of the 
Blue's adherents rattled forth triumphantly. But 
Pritchett was n't dismayed. Instead, he settled 
down and struck out the next man ignominiously. 
Then, with two strikes and two balls called by the 
umpire, the succeeding batsman rolled a slow one 
toward short-stop and that player, pausing to 
hold the runner on second, threw wide of first. 
The batsman streaked for second and the man 
ahead darted to third and made the turn toward 
home. But right-fielder had been prompt in back- 
ing up and the foremost runner was satisfied to 
scuttle back to third. The Blue's first-baseman 
came to bat. He was the best hitter on the team, 
and, with men on second and third, it seemed that 
the Blue was destined to wave triumphantly that 
day. 

"Two down !" called the Crimson captain en- 
couragingly. "Now for the next one, fellows ! 
Don't lose him, Tom !" 

"Two out !" bawled the coachers back of first 
and third. "Run on anything! He 's worried! 
Look out!" For the "worried" one had turned 
quickly and sped the ball to third. 

"That 's all right !" cried the irrepressible 
coacher. "He won't do that again. Take a lead ; 
take a lead ! Steady !" 



22 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



[Nov., 



Pritchett glanced grimly at the two on bases 
and turned to the batsman. He was in a bad 
place, and he realized it. A hit would bring in 
two runs. The man who faced him was a veteran 
player, and could n't be fooled easily. He consid- 
ered the advisability of giving him his base, 
knowing that the next man up would be easier to 
dispose of. It was risky, but he decided to do it. 
He shook his head at the catcher's signal and sent 
a wide one. 

"Ball !" droned the umpire, and the blue flags 
waved gleefully. 

The next was also a ball, and the next, and the 
next, and — 

"Take your base," said the umpire. 

"Thunder!" muttered Chick nervously as the 
man trotted leisurely down the line and the sharp 
cheers rattled forth like musketry. "Bases full !" 

"He did it on purpose," said Roy Porter. 
"Burton 's a hard hitter and a clever one, and 
Pritchett did n't want to risk it." 

"Well, a hit now will mean something!" 
grieved Chick. 

"It '11 mean two runs ; just what it meant be- 
fore," answered Roy. "Who 's this at bat?" 

"Kneeland," answered his neighbor on the 
other side, referring to his score-card. 

"What 's he done?" 

"Nothing. Got his base twice, once on fielder's 
choice and once on balls." 

"That 's good. Watch Pritchett fool him." 

They watched breathlessly, in an agony of sus- 
pense. One ball; one strike; two strikes; two 
balls ; a foul ; another foul. 

"He 's spoiling 'em," muttered Chick uneasily. 
But the next moment he was on his feet with ev- 
ery one else on that side of the field, yelling 
wildly, frantically. Pritchett had one more strike- 
out to his credit, and three blue-stockinged play- 
ers turned ruefully from their captured bases and 
sought their places in the field. 

The Crimson players came flocking back to the 
bench, panting and smiling, and threw themselves 
under the grateful shade of the little strip of awn- 
ing. 

"Who 's up?" asked some one. The coach was 
studying the score-book silently. Pritchett was 
up, but Pritchett, like most pitchers, was but a 
poor batsman. The coach's glance turned and 
wandered down the farther bench where the sub- 
stitutes sat. 

"Eaton up !" he called, and turning to the 
scorer: "Eaton in place of Pritchett," he said. 

The youngster who stood before him awaiting 
instructions was a rather stockily-built chap, with 
brown hair and eyes and a merry, good-natured 
face. But there was something besides good na- 



ture on his face at this moment ; something 
besides freckles, too; it was an expression that 
mingled pleasure, anxiety, and determination. 
Tom Eaton had been a substitute on the varsity 
nine only since the disbanding of the freshman 
team, of which he had been captain, and during 
that scant fortnight he had not succeeded in get- 
ting into a game. 

"You 've got to get to first, Eaton," said the 
coach softly. "Try and get your base on balls; 
make him think you 're anxious to hit, see? But 
.keep your wits about you and see if you can't 
walk. If he gets two strikes on you, why, do the 
best you can ; hit it down toward third. Under- 
stand? Once oh first I expect you to get around. 
Take all the risk you want; we 've got to score." 

"Batter ttp !" called the umpire, impatiently. 

Eaton selected a bat carefully from the rack 
and walked out to the plate. The head cheer- 
leader, looking over his shoulder, ready to sum- 
mon a "short cheer" for the batsman, hesitated 
and ran across to the bench. 

"Who 's batting?" he asked. 

"Eaton," he was told. "Batting for Pritchett." 

"A short cheer for Eaton, fellows, and make it 
good !" 

It was good, and as the freshman captain faced 
the Blue's pitcher the cheer swept across to him 
and sent a thrill along his spine. Perhaps he 
needed it, for there was no denying that he was 
feeling pretty nervous, although he succeeded in 
disguising that fact from either catcher or 
pitcher. 

Up in the cheering section there was joy 
among the group of freshmen. 

"Look who 's here!" shrieked Chick. "It 's 
Chub!" 

"Chub Eaton!" cried another. "What do you 
think of that?" 

"Batting for Pritchett! Can he bat, Roy?" 

"Yes ; but I don't know what he can do against 
this fellow. He has n't been in a game since they 
took him on. But I guess the coach knows he 
can run the bases. If he gets to first, he '11 steal 
the rest !" And then the cheer came. 

In the last inning of a game it is customary to 
replace the weak batsmen with players who can 
hit the ball, and when Chub Eaton stepped to the 
plate the Blue's catcher and pitcher assumed that 
they had a difficult person to contend with. The 
catcher signaled for a drop, for from the way 
Chub handled his bat it seemed that he would, in 
base-ball slang, "bite at it," and Chub seemed to 
want to badly. He almost swung at it, but he 
did n't quite, and the umpire called "Ball !" Well, 
reflected the catcher, it was easy to see that he 
was anxious to hit, and so he signaled for a nice 



igoS.] 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



23 



slow ball that looked for all the world like an easy 
one until it almost reached the plate; then it 
"broke" in a surprising way and went off to the 
left. Chub almost reached for it, but again not 
quite. And "Two balls!" said the umpire. 
Chub swung his bat back and forth impatiently, 
just begging the Blue pitcher to give him 
a fair chance. The pitcher did. He sent a nice 
drop that cleared the plate knee-high. "Strike 1" 
announced the umpire. Chub turned on him in 
surprise and shook his head. Then he settled 
back and worked his bat in a way that said : "Just 
try that again ! I dare you to !" 

The pitcher did try it again ; at least, he seemed 
to, but the ball dropped so low this time that it 
failed of being a strike by several inches. Chub 
looked pained. On the bench the coach was smil- 
ing dryly. The Blue pitcher awoke to the fact 
that he had been fooled. He sent a high ball 
straight over the plate and Chub let it go by. 
"Strike two !" called the umpire. The Blue stands 
cheered mightily. Two strikes and three balls ! 
Chub gripped his bat hard. Again the pitcher 
shot the ball forward. It came straight and true 
for the plate, broke when a few feet away and 
came down at a weird tangent. Chub swung 
desperately and the ball glanced off the bat and 
went arching back into the stand. "Foul!" 
growled the umpire. Chub drew a deep breath of 
relief. Once more the pitcher poised himself and 
threw. The ball whirled by him and Chub 
dropped his bat and started across the plate, his 
heart in his mouth. 

"Four balls ! Take your base !" 
' The umpire's voice was drowned by the sudden 
burst of wild acclaim from the Crimson stands, 
and Chub trotted to first, to be enthusiastically 
patted and thumped on the back by the coacher 
stationed there. Up in the cheering section five 
freshmen were hugging each other ecstatically. 
The head of the Crimson's batting list was com- 
ing up, and things looked bright. The cheering 
became incessant. The coach shouted and bawled. 
But the Blue's pitcher refused to be rattled. He 
settled down, held Chub close on first and, before 
any one quite realized what was happening, had 
struck out the next man. 

But Chub had made up his mind to go on, and 
he went. He made his steal on the first ball 
thrown to the new batter and, although catcher 
threw straight and fast to second-baseman, Chub 
slid around the latter and reached the bag. Then, 
while the cheers broke forth again, he got up, 
patted the dust out of his clothes, and took a 
fresh lead. The pitcher eyed him darkly for a 
moment and then gave his attention to the bats- 
man. Crack! Ball and bat met and the short- 



stop ran in to field a fast grounder, and as he ran 
Chub flashed behind him. Gathering up the ball, 
short-stop turned toward third, saw that he was 
too late, and threw to first, putting the batsman 
out by the narrowest of margins. Two out ! 

The Crimson captain stepped to the plate, look- 
ing determined, and hit the first delivery safely. 
But it was a bunt near the plate and, although 
Chub was ready to run in, he had no chance. 
The captain stole second and Chub looked for a 
chance to get home; but they were watching him. 
The Crimson supporters were on their feet, their 
shouts imploring victory. The next man up was 
an erratic batsman, one who had made home runs 
before this in time of stress and who had, quite 
as often, failed to "make good." Amid the wild- 
est excitement, the Blue pitcher pulled down his 
cap, calmly studied the signal, and sped the ball 
toward the plate. 

"Strike!" again, and the batsman swung and 
the ball glanced back against the netting. 

"Foul ! Strike two !" 

Then came a ball. The batsman was plainly 
discouraged, plainly nervous. Chub, dancing 
around at third, worrying the pitcher to the best 
of his ability, decided that it was now or never 
for him. Taking a long lead, he waited, poised on 
his toes. As the ball left the pitcher's hand he 
raced for home. 

"Hit it ! Hit it !" shrieked the men on the 
bench. The batsman, awakening suddenly to the 
demands, struck wildly as the ball came to him, 
struck without hitting. But the catcher, with that 
red-stockinged figure racing toward him, made 
his one error of the game. The ball glanced from 
his mitt and rolled back of the plate, and although 
he had thrown off his mask and was after it like 
a cat after a mouse, he was too late. Chub Eaton 
was lying in a cloud of dust with one hand on the 
plate, and the crowd was streaming, shouting, and 
dancing on to, the field. 

Chapter II 

LETTERS AND PLANS 

That 4 to 3 victory took place on a Thursday, in 
the third week of June. 

Some two hours later the hero of the conflict 
lay stretched at full-length on a window-seat in 
the front room of a house within sound of the 
college bell. His hands were under his head, one 
foot nestled inelegantly amidst the cushions at 
the far end of the seat and the other was sprawled 
upon the floor. The window beside him was wide 
open and through it came the soft, warm air, red- 
olent of things growing, of moist pavements, of 
freshly sprinkled lawns. The sounds of passing 



24 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



footsteps and voices entered, too ; and from 
across the shaded street came the tinkle of a 
banjo. The voices were joyous and care-free. 
To-morrow was Class-Day; the year's work was 
over; books had been tossed aside, and already 
the exodus from college had begun. The twilight 
deepened and the long June day came unwillingly 
to its end. Shadows lengthened under the elms 
and here and there a light glared out from an 
open window. But in the room the twilight held 
undisputed sway, hiding the half-packed trunks 
and the untidy disorder of the study. 

Chub lay on the window-seat and a few feet 
away, where he could look through the wide open 
casement, Roy Porter was stretched out in a 
Morris chair. We have already caught a brief 
glimpse of Roy in the cheering section during 
the game, but in the excitement we did not, I 
fancy, observe him very closely. He is a good- 
looking, even handsome, boy, with light, curly 
hair and very blue eyes. He is tall and well de- 
veloped, with broad shoulders and wide hips. 
Roy and Chub have been firm friends for three 
years : for two years at Ferry Hill School and for 
one at college. In age there is but a month or 
two of difference between them. Both are fresh- 
men, having come up together from Ferry Hill 
last September, since which time they have led a 
very interesting and, withal, happy existence in 
the quarters in which we now find them. And 
they have each had their successes. Chub has 
made the captaincy of the freshman Nine, they 
have both played on the freshman foot-ball team, 
and each has been recently taken into one of the 
societies. In studies Roy has accomplished rather 
more than his friend, having finished the year 
well up in his class. But Chub has kept his end 
up and has passed the finals, if not in triumph, at 
least without disgrace. 

"Another big day for you. Chub," said Roy. 
Chub stretched himself luxuriously and yawned. 

"Yes. There have been quite a few 'big days,' 
Roy, since we met at school, have n't there ? 
There was the day when you lammed out that 
home run and won us the game from Hammond, 
two years ago. That was one of your 'big days,' 
old chap, but it was mine, too. Then, last year, 
when we won on the track. That was Dick's 'big 
day,' but we all shared in it, especially since it 
brought that check from Kearney and brought 
the affairs of the Ferry Hill School Improvement 
Society to a glorious close. And then there was 
the base-ball game last year—" 

"That was your day. Chub, and none other's." 

"Well, if I recollect rightly, there was a little 
two-bagger by one Roy Porter which had some- 
thing to do with the result," returned Chub dryly. 



"Oh, we 'd have won without that. Say, do 
you remember Harry after the game?" 

"Do I ! Shall I ever forget her? She was just 
about half-crazy, was n't she? And would n't she 
have loved to have been here to-day?" 

They both chuckled at the idea. 

"By the way," said Chub presently, "did we 
get any mail this evening?" 

"I don't think so," said Roy; "but I did n't look. 
Expecting a check ?" 

"Well, hardly. But we ought to hear from 
Dick to-day or to-morrow. And Mr. Cole, too, 
about the boat." 

"That 's so. Maybe we '11 hear in the morning." 

"Light the gas and have a look around," begged 
Chub. "Sometimes Mrs. Moore picks the letters 
up and puts them on the table, and we don't find 
them for weeks and weeks." 

"If you 'd keep the table picked up," said Roy 
severely, as he arose with a grunt and fumbled 
for matches, "such things would n't occur." 

"Listen to him!" murmured Chub, apparently 
addressing the ceiling. "I 'd like to know which 
of us is the neat little housekeeper!—" 

The study was suddenly illumined with a 
ghastly glow as Roy applied the match to the drop- 
light. Chub groaned and turned his face away. 

"I give you notice, Roy, that next year we 're 
going to have a different shade on that thing. 
Green may be all very nice for the optic nerves, 
but it 's extremely offensive to my— my sensibili- 
ties. Besides, it does n't suit my complexion. 
I 've mentioned that before. Now a red shade—" 

"Here 's a whole bunch of letters," exclaimed 
Roy, mildly indignant. "I wish she 'd let them 
alone. Here— two for you and one for me. This 
looks like — yes, it 's from Dick. And I guess this 
one — " he studied it under the light — is from the 
artist man. The postmark 's New York, and — " 

"Well, hand 'em over," said Chub. 

"Come and get them. You can't see to read 
over there," replied Roy tranquilly. Chub hesi- 
tated, groaned, and finally did as he was told. 

"Yes, this is from Dickums," he muttered as he 
tore off the end of the envelop. "I hope he can 
come. Who wrote yours?" 

"Dad," answered Roy, settling into his chair 
and beginning to read. But he was n't destined 
to finish his letter just then, for in a moment 
Chub had rudely disturbed him. 

"It 's all right!" he cried. "Listen, Roy; let me 
read this to you !" 

"He 's coming?" asked Roy eagerly, abandon- 
ing his own letter. 

"Yes. Listen." Chub pulled up a chair, sat 
down, and began to read : " 'Dear Chub : Yours of 
no date—' " 




\ '^y^^y^'/ 



"CHUB EATON WAS LYING IN A CLOUD OF DUST' 
Vol. XXXVI. -4-5. .^ 



26 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



"Good for Dick!" murmured Roy. Chub 
grinned and went on. 

" ' — received the day before yesterday. I 'd have 
answered before, but things have been pretty 
busy here. If we can get the house-boat, I '11 go 
along in a minute. It will be a fine lark. I 'm 
leaving here to-morrow for New York. My Dad 's 
there now, and we "re going to stay somewhere 
around there for the summer, he says. You let 
me know just as soon as you can. Send your let- 
ter to the Hotel Waldorf. I can start any time. 
I have n't written to Dad about it, but I know he 
will let me go. I hope we can get the boat. I 
told Harry about it yesterday, and read your let- 
ter to her, and she 's wild to go along. Says we 
might wait until she gets back from her Aunt 
Harriet's. So I had to tell her I 'd see what you 
fellows thought about it. Maybe we might have 
her along for a little while. What do you think ? 
I suppose her father or mother ought to come, 
too, as a — ' " 

"Chaperon," said Roy. "Harry 's getting 
'growed up,' you know." 

"Well, we '11 see. Here, where 's that other 
letter? Let 's find out what Mr. Cole says." He 
opened the second epistle and glanced through it 
quickly, his face lighting as he read. "It 's all 
right !" he cried. "We can have the boat ! Only — " 
he looked through the note again — "only he 
does n't say anything about the price. 'When you 
get here we '11 talk over the matter of terms.' 
That does n't sound encouraging, does it ?"' 
Chub looked across at Roy dubiously, and Roy 
shook his head. 

"Not very," he answered ; "but you can't tell. 
He will let us down easy. He 's a good sort, is 
the Floating Artist." 

"Well—" Chub tossed the note aside and went 
back to Dick Somes's letter. 

'Tt would be awfully jolly if we four could get 
together again this summer, would n't it ?" said 
Roy. 

"Great!" answered Chub. "And we '11 do it, 
too," he added stoutly. 

"I don't believe so. Something will happen at 
the last moment," said Roy dejectedly. 

"My gentle croaker, let me finish this. . . . 
'I got through exams. O. K. and got my diploma 
to-day. So I '11 see you fellows in the fall if we 
don't make it before. That is, if I can pass at 
college. I wish you 'd speak a good word for me 
to the president. I suppose you know we won 
the boat-race by almost three lengths. That 
makes up for losing the ball game. We missed 
you on the team this year. Thev 've elected Sid 
Welch captain for next year. Sid 's so pleased 



he can't see straight. To-day was Class-Day 
and we had a fine time. You ought to have 
heard me orate. How 's old Roy? He owes me 
a letter, the rascal. Write as soon as you can 
to the Waldorf. I '11 be there to-morrow evening. 
Tell Roy to come and see me as soon as he gets 
home. You, too, if you stop over there. I 've got 
lots of news for you that I can tell better than I 
can write. Hope you fellows win your game to- 
morrow. They ought to have taken you on. 
Chub. But next year, when I get there, I '11 fix 
that for you. So long. Don't forget to let me 
know whether we can have the house-boat. 
Yours, Dick.' 

"Good old Dickums," murmured Chub as he 
folded the letter. "Well, it 's all settled," he went 
on animatedly. "We '11 take the midnight train 
to-morrow, Roy ; see Mr. Cole ; look up Dick, and 
get ready for the cruise ! Won't we have fun !" 

"Did Mr. Cole say whether he 'd let the boat to 
us furnished ?" 

"Yes." Chub referred to the note. " 'The Jolly 
Roger is quite at your disposal as soon as you 
want her. I 'm going abroad in August, and 
won't want her at all this summer. She needs 
paint, but you '11 have to attend to that if you 're 
fussy. You '11 find her all ready for you. I won't 
say anything about the engine, for you know that 
engine yourself. Treat it kindly and perhaps it 
will stand by you. When you get here we '11 talk 
over the matter of terms. Regards to your friend 
and to you. Very truly yours, Forbes Cole.' 
That 's all he says. I don't believe he will want 
us to pay him much if he 's going abroad and 
can't use the boat himself anyway, do you ?" 

"I hope not," answered Roy, "for it 's going to 
be rather an expensive trip. Chub." 

"Nonsense ! Not more than ten dollars a week." 

Roy rose determinedly and threw back the lid 
of his steamer trunk. 

"What are you going to do ?" asked Chub. 

"Finish my packing. There won't be any time 
to-morrow, and — " 

But alas for good resolutions ! There was a 
charge of feet outside on the brick walk, a ham- 
mering at the door, and a covey of happy, irre- 
sponsible freshmen burst into the room. There 
was no packing that night. But what did it mat- 
ter? There was to-morrow and many, many 
other to-morrows stretching away in a seemingly 
limitless vista of happy holidays, and the fact 
that when the visitors finally took their departure 
the few things that the room-mates had packed 
had been seized upon by rude hands and strewn 
about the study worried no one. Nothing matters 
when "finals" are over and summer beckons. 



(To be continued.^ 



I 



I 





THE CAVALRY GUIDON — UNITED STATES CADET CORPS. 

THE WEST POINT OF TO-DAY 

BY COLONEL CHARLES W. EARNED 

Member of Faculty , United States Military Academy 



What American boy who can read has not heard 
of West Point, the great War-School of America 
in the Hudson Highlands, whence rode out to 
fame the heroes of his school history — Grant 
and Lee, Sherman and "Stonewall" Jackson, 
Sheridan and Longstreet, Meade and the John- 
stons, Schofield, Thomas, McClellan, Halleck, 
Hooker, Hancock, Howard, together with Hood, 
Bragg, Ewell, Hill, Wheeler, Pickett, and a host 
of others on both sides of the line during the 
great struggle for the Union in the Titanic days 
of "Sixty-One"? 

How many Yankee lads have thrilled at the 
battle-splendor of the crisis at Gettysburg where 
Gushing, a boy of twenty-two, torn and bleeding 
to death at his guns, fires with his flickering 
spark of life the shot that shatters the hopes of 



the Gonfederacy; and Webb, not yet thirty, his 
intrepid commander, lines with his thin brigade 
the high water mark of the Southern invasion? 
What lad of Dixie has not quivered at the echo 
of the "Rebel yell" that sounded the immortal 
charge of Pickett's Brigade into the volcanic 
crater of the Union center? 

■ What boy, North or South, but has felt his 
blood warm at the romantic stories of the long- 
golden-haired, blue-eyed, leather-fringed, Indian 
fighter, Guster, dashing and fearless, riding gaily 
to his death with three hundred of the famous 
"Seventh" into the fatal trap of Sitting-Bull and 
his murderous Sioux? — Guster who, a brigadier 
at twenty-three, a major-general at twenty-five, 
had eleven horses shot under him in battle ; and 
whose Division in six months captured in the 



28 



THE WEST POINT OF TO-DAY 



[Nov., 



field one hundred and eleven pieces of artillery, 
fifty-five battle-flags, ten thousand prisoners of 
war, and itself never lost a gun, a color, or a 
fight. There, too, is his corps-mate, Mackenzie, 
head of the next class of '6i, who within ten 
weeks after graduation received his first wound 
and brevet for gallantry, and by the close of the 
\var had achieved for bravery in battle every 
brevet possible, from first lieutenant to major- 
general; had been in eleven pitched battles, be- 
sides actions, combats, and skirmishes ; and was 
three times severely wounded before his twenty- 
fifth birthday. Merritt, who was a brigadier in 
three, and a major-general in five years after 
graduation, with six brevets, fourteen battles, 
and thirty-two minor actions to his credit. Gush- 
ing, Custer, Mackenzie, Merritt— youngsters and 




GENERAL GEORGE A. CUSTER, IN HIS UNIFORM AS 
A WEST POINT CADET. 

corps-mates — together with the heroic Pelham, 
who, on the Confederate side, was killed at twen- 
ty-five, after having won the praise of Lee for 
extraordinary courage, are types of the children 
of our Highland Mother whose names are writ 
in fire. But the story of the cadet days of these 
gallant spirits, and many more like them, must 
be read in the glowing chronicles of General 
Shaff's "Spirit of Old West Point," wherein he 
tells of the stirring doings at the Academv in the 



old time which tried men's souls and tore asunder 
families, setting father against son and brother 
against brother; State against State and South 
against North. 

But it is close upon fifty years since then, and 
the world has hurried along at a tremendous 
pace, carrying West Point and everything else 
with it. Two powerful empires have come into 
the arena of modern nations : Germany on our 
right hand and Japan on our left. Electricity, 
with most of its mechanical applications, lights, 
telephones, dynamos, motors, and wireless teleg- 
raphy ; gas-engines and automobiles ; dirigible 
balloons and aeroplanes; torpedoes, torpedo- 
boats, and catchers ; submarines ; twelve-, thir- 
teen-, and sixteen-inch steel guns, and smokeless 
powder ; dynamite ; concrete ; automatic and 
rapid-fire artillery ; high-power small arms, deadly 
at a mile and a half or even two miles ; steel ar- 
mor-plate, ships, and buildings ; Rontgen rays 
and radium — all of these things were unknown to 
the men of '6i, and of them all West Point, to- 
gether with everybody else, has to "sit up and 
take notice." 

At the outbreak of the war for the Union our 
standing army was about twelve thousand men; 
to-day it may be from sixty to one hundred 
thousand. Then we had no outlying possessions ; 
to-day we have Alaska, Porto Rico, the Sand- 
wich Islands, Panama, the Philippines, and 
Guam ; and a fleet more powerful than ever be- 
fore sailed the high seas has doubled Cape Horn 
to let the world know that we arc "sitting up and 
taking notice." During the Civil War period 
the Corps of Cadets averaged, in the seven years 
from 1859 to 1865, 213 men. It now varies from 
430 to 460, with a supposed maximum of 522. In 
the early days there were no service schools out- 
side the Academy, except the Artillery School ; 
to-day there are, besides this, the Engineer 
School at Washington ; The School of the Line, 
Signal School and Staff College at Leavenworth ; 
the Mounted Service School for Cavalry and 
Field Artillery at Fort Riley ; the School of Sub- 
marine Defense at Fort Totten, now combined 
with the Artillery School ; the Army Medical 
School at Washington ; a special School of 
Application of the Ordnance at Sandy Hook ; the 
Army War College at Washington, together with 
Post and Garrison Schools throughout the Ser- 
vice—making in all nine established army 
schools, and as many of the latter class as there 
are posts and garrisons — all these in addition to 
West Point. In fact, we are the most be-schooled 
army in the world, and our officers have plenty of 
opportunity to study. 

To meet all these new conditions the Military 



ipoS.] 



THE WEST POINT OF TO-DAY 



29 



Academy had to grow fast, and in growing it nance construction, sanitation, new engineering 
outgrew its clothes, so that Uncle Sam found it methods, map-making, and building construction 
incumbent upon him to build it a new suit. The that had no existence in the old course ; and his 




VIEW OF THE NEW WEST POINT FROM THE RIVER, LOOKING NORTHWEST. 

KIDING-HALL, HEADQUARTERS. 



POWER-HOUSE, 



buildings and improvements were first estimated 
to cost about $7,500,000, but under present ad- 
vancing prices, the total cost will be not far from 
$10,000,000. 

The cadet of to-day, therefore, has to learn a 
good many more things than did his predecessors. 
All the inventions I have referred to have made 
fighting machinery quite complicated. Then 
again, he is not merely marched about the parade 
in smart drills, dressed in tight uniforms as of 
yore, but has to go out on practice-marches in 
full campaign outfit ; to groom horses ; harness 
pack-mules ; carry light artillery up mountain- 
sides for artillery practice ; dig trenches ; live in 
shelter-tents; qualify at the target ranges; make 
topographical maps in the field; visit the great 
arsenals ; practise with heavy guns at the sea- 
coast forts ; work out tactical problems under 
arms — advance guards, outposts, and minor tacti- 
cal manceuvers — all this practical work in addi- 
tion to the regular drills, field engineering, 
pontooning, and signaling. In his academic study 
he has had to learn a great deal of electrics, ord- 



studies are being re-modeled along the lines of 
the most advanced technological schools, but with 
special reference to military requirements. Then 
he must learn to read and speak Spanish, besides 
acquiring a good knowledge of French and of 
technical drawing; he must know military and 
constitutional law well, and something about 
common law; about chemistry; the laws of me- 
chanics, acoustics, optics, and astronomy ; and, of 
course, this means a good foundation in mathe- 
matics. 

But, above all, the Academy seeks to make a 
mail of him ; a sound, healthy, high-minded, well- 
disciplined citizen and soldier; and, like the 
Greeks and Romans of old. West Point esteems 
the making of character together with the vigor 
and discipline of the body as of equal importance 
with mind-training. It undertakes that he shall 
be kept away from dissipations, and shall have a 
healthy, well-developed body ; that he shall be 
held responsible for every act and word ; that he 
shall understand the laws of his country and his 
duties as a citizen ; and that he shall know his 



30 



THE WEST POINT OF TO-DAY 



[Nov., 




THE NEW WEST POINT. QUARTERS OF THE SUPERINTENDENT AND STAFF. BATTLE AND WASHINGTON MONUMENTS. 




THE NEW WEST POINT. THE CHAPEL. 



job as a soldier. "The Corps" sees 
to it that he is held to the traditions 
of honor, truth-telling, courage, 
and fair play which are its heritage 
from the past. The story of the 
West Pointer who "had the order 
in his pocket" is old and oft told, 
but it is characteristic of the ideal 
of duty which is the keynote of 
West Point training. It was re- 
lated by General Gibl)on, one of the 
bravest soldiers that West Point 
has produced, of a cavalry officer 
and brother graduate that, having 
received an order to capture a bat- 
tery, a fellow officer asserted that 
the feat was not possible under the 
circumstances. "Possible, possible !" 
— exclaimed the West Pointer, "of 
course it 's possible : I have the or- 
der in my pocket." 

If you would know how a cadet 
passes his day during the academic 
term, it is about as follows : 

At a quarter to six in the early 
Fall the bang of a field-piece cracks 
the stillness of the frosty air, fol- 
lowed by the rattle of drums and 
the piping of fifes. Immediately 
the field-music starts on a lively 
march for barracks, and, passing 
through the reverberating sally- 
port, concludes its fracas in the 
barrack area. Sleepy, half-con- 
scious cadets hear it all dreamily, 
and not until the separated drums 
explode like gatling guns in the 
hallway of each division do they 



igoS.] 



THE WEST POINT OF TO-DAY 



31 




SHKLTER-TENT DRILL. 



think it imperative to heed the summons. There 
yet remain two or three minutes before the drums 
cease their clatter, at the end of which each man 
must be clothed and in his right mind, in ranks, 
ready for roll-call and for battle, if need be; al- 
though I much fear that if the enemy were to 
descend suddenly upon the battalion at reveille 
they would find a somewhat scantily-clothed force, 
under overcoats, opposed to them. In these 
precious last three minutes the cadets jump into 
shoes and such clothing as shows from the out- 
side, and avalanche down the iron stairs just in 
time to avoid a "late." 

And now the day's real grind begins. Back to 
his room to sweep and tidy and fold, ready for 
room-inspection in twenty minutes. Ten minutes 
later he is in ranks again, marching to breakfast 
after answering at another roll-call. In the Mess 



Hall each mess of ten men has a separate table 
and commandant, and all must eat their food in 
conformity with Mess Hall regulations and tra- 
ditional etiquette, which for the poor plebe has 
some nice distinctions that do not enhance his 
appetite or enjoyment, although, for the matter 
of that, his appetite does not need any encourage- 
ment. In about twenty minutes or so the senior 
cadet captain commands: "'A' company, rise" — 
the meal is done, and back marches the battalion 
to barracks and the day's work. 

At a quarter past seven the academic bugle 
blows "Call to Quarters," that dreary trump that 
summons each would-be warrior to his cell and 
studious meditations. From 7.15 in the morning 
until 3.30 in the afternoon, with the exception of 
the dinner-hour, study and recitations claim him ; 
and also must he be at all times ready for the un- 




CAVALKY UKILL. COLUMN OF PLATOONS. 



32 



THE WEST POINT OF TO-DAY 



[Nov., 




L 

SEA COAST BATTERY DRILL. 

13-INCH BREECH-LOADING, 

RIFLED STEEL MORTAR. 

sparing eye of the inspect- 
ing officer who descends 
upon him as the avenging 
angel of the "Blue Book," 
in which is writ the laws 
of his daily life, the imal- 
terable Code of Regula- 
tions by which cadets 
breathe and move and 



have their being. At 12.15 
the drums and fifes voice 
his clamorous stomach with 
the tune he calls "Peas 
upon a trencher," and he 
repeats the march to and 
from the Mess Hall. 

The afternoon academic 
period ends at 3.30, but 
with a drum-call to fresh 
labor. The different drill 
squads fall in and are 
marched off— some to in- 
fantry drill, some to light 
battery, some to heavy 
guns, others to signaling, 
or to field explosives, or 
target practice, tactical 





AT THE l.VRGET KAN(,E. 1111, );L lib. 



FENCING DRILL. 

problems, practical mili- 
tary engineering, or some- 
thing else, depending upon 
the season and class. At 
4.40, back again at "double 
time," just in time to wash 
off and jump into full- 
dress for Dress Parade, 
which, in turn, is followed 
by Guard Mount. At last 
there comes a minute- 
thirty of them — in which 
to catch breath before the 
insistent call to supper and 
"Retreat Parade" at six 
o'clock. After supper, an- 
other rest of half an hour 
until the bugle siren sings 
its alluring vesper-song of 
"Call to Quarters" for the 
long evening grind at 
books and problems. 



I908.] 



THE WEST POINT OF TO-DAY 



33 







THE RIVER-FRONT, SHOWING THE RIDING-HALL, POST HEADQUARTERS, AND THE POWER-HOUSE. 

At 9:30, out upon the Parade, under the twink- aristocrats" of the nation end their "luxurious" 

hng stars, the drum and fife chorus assembles day by casting themselves upon their iron beds of 

once again and beats "The Girl I Left Behind roses, where, slothful and supine, they "waste" 

Me" off to dreamland; while the hard-worked the midnight hours in sleep, and await the dreaded 

cadets who are sometimes called the "petted reveille "bang" that ushers in another day. 




DRESS PARADE. 



"FOOT-BALL" 

BY J. W. LINN 

A GRiDiRONED field that huge stands defend, 
With a great grim gallows at either end, 
A bullying wind and a frightened sky 
And a leather ball that goes dancing by — 

The hour has struck again for the doughty foot-ball men, 
And it 's "Fall, there, fall, lad, 

You 're snatching at the ball, lad. 

That "s not the game at all, lad ! 

Again, now — that 's well done ! 

Quick, now, quick, man, 

Don't lie there like a sick man — 

Lively! That 's the trick, man, pick up your feet and run!" 

A-sprawl full-length on the short brown grass 
They watch the handling of kick and pass. 
And the slippery dummies squeak and swing 
As each in his turn the tacklers spring — 

And the veteran may shirk but the novice he must work. 
While it 's "Scoot now, scoot, lad. 

Leave your feet and shoot, lad, 

That 's the way to do it, lad. 

You 're learning, learning fast. 

Low, get lozv, man. 

Must n't be so slow, man ! 

That 's the way to go, man, you 've got the knack at last." 

Hark now to the whistle's silver call, 
"Line up !" and the center takes the ball. 
The signals follow, clear and quick, 
For run and line-buck, punt and trick, — 

While the coach trots close beside, to each error open-ej^ed, 
And it 's "You end, stay there ! 
Tackle, under way, there ! 
Guard, you spoiled the play, there. 
Don't stand like that and wait ! 
What are you about, man ? 
Can't you hear me shout, man ? 

You might as well be out, man, as half a second late!" 

So the days go by and with each in turn 
Comes something new for the men to learn. 
But one great lesson is still the same, 
It 's f cam-play only that wins the game ! 

Nothing 's done by one and one, but by all in unison ! 
For it 's "Side by side, there ! 

Let the full-back guide, there ! 

Half, don't run so wide there. 
Never go alone ! 

Hard, now, hard, man — 

Tackle, stick to guard, man!" — 

And the boys who learn the lesson may use it when they 're grown ! 

34 




Drawn by Jay Hambidge. 

FUTURE "STARS" OF THE " GRIDIRONED FIELD." 





"AND ATE YOU IF YOU COULD N'T 
GUESS THE SAME." 



BY ELIZABETH HILL 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY FANNY Y. CORY 

When little Lysimachides was almost six years 
old, 
His father said: " 'T is time to test his pluck. 

We want this little boy of ours to grow up brave 
and bold, 
And no more fear a lion than a duck. 

To-morrow to the Hippodrome I '11 take him 
down to see 

The Mighty, Far-famed, Fabled African Men- 
agerie." 

"Now, listen, Lysimachides," his Spartan daddy 

said, 
"A few more years and you will be a man ; 
And so, no matter what you see down here, don't 
lose your head. 
But show yourself a hero, if you can. 
These creatures may spit fire and roar, but even 

if they do. 
Don't dare to let me hear a single bit of sound 
from you." 

So little Lysimachides determined not to quail, 

But bear himself as did befit his years; 
And when he saw the Dragon spouting flames 

he did not fail. 
But proudly put a damper on his fears ; 
And when nine-headed Hydra put forth an awful 

roar, 
He tried to act as if he oft had heard that noise 

before. 

36 



THE BOLD LITTLE SPARTAN BOY 



31 



He marched up straight and manly, with his 
head held very high, 
And dauntlessly examined every beast : 
He looked the fierce Chimsera exactly in the eye, 

And did not mind the Gryphon in the least ; 
Before the great (stuffed) Basilisk he paused 

and did not "flunk," 
And when the Roc pecked at his nose he showed 
the utmost spunk. 



"AND TAKE A HEADER OX ITS HORN. 

'T was really interesting (though it 
was dreadful, too) 
So many curious creatures to survey 
And it was quite exciting to see 
the things they 'd do, 
Although it 
caused him 
moments of 
dismay. 



But even when he stood a 

chance of being swallowed 

whole, 
He did not let his countenance 

betray his anxious 

soul. 





A CENTAUR TOOK HIM RIDING ROUND THE TRACK. 

There was that striking quadruped, 
the lively Unicorn, 
With body white and head of 
crimson dye ; 

'T would give a sud- 
den run and take 
a header on its 
horn, 
Then calmly rise 
and wink its 
azure eye. 
And, oh, to watch its 
paces when it 
raced around the 
ring ! 
And, oh, to hear it bel- 
low ! And, oh, to 
see it spring ! 




"HE LOOKED THE FIERCE CHIM/ERA EXACTLY IN THE EYE.' 



38 



THE BOLD LITTLE SPARTAN BOY 



There was the Salamander spry, which in the 
fire did bask, 
And when it tired of play licked up the flame ; 
There was the Sphinx, which stopped you, 
strange riddles for to ask, 
And ate you if you could n't guess the same ; 
And there were monsters many more, too num- 
erous to tell ; 
But little Lysimachides went through the trial well. 

Of course, there were some animals that were 

not bad at all : 
A Centaur took him riding round the track ; 
A pleasant-looking Dolphin came a-swimming 

up at call, 



And let him have a sail upon its back ; 
And, best of all, the Phoenix permitted him to 

come 
And feed it lumps of frankincense and sticks of 

scented gum. 

So little Lysimachides had quite a jolly day, 

And never for an instant did he flinch. 
His daddy was delighted, and unto his ma did 
say: 
"This youngster is a Spartan, every inch !" 
And surely, everybody else must be of Daddy's 

mind : 
That a bolder little Spartan boy it would be hard 
to find. 




. 



THIS YOUNGSTER IS A SPARTAN, EVERY INCH! 



THE ROBIN AND THE BEE 



BY JOHN LEA 



"I SUPPOSE you know it 's autumn?" 

Said the Robin to the Bee,— 
"And the leaves are getting thinner 
On the most courageous tree. 
You have noticed that no butterflies 

Across the garden rove ? 
And that every single chestnut 

Has been scattered in the grove? 
It 's a fortnight since the swallows 

Took their passage o'er the sea, — 
So perhaps you know it 's autumn," 
Said the Robin to the Bee. 



"Old Winter soon gets busy 

When the feeble sunbeams fade 
And he turns the flower-beds over 

With a white and frosty spade. 
He rolls the gravel pathways 

Till they ring like iron roads. 
And the twigs on all the bushes 

With a sparkling cloak he loads. 
That 's right ! Let 's both fly Southward! 

Until May once more we see, — 
When we '11 find a warmer welcome," 

Said the Robin to the Bee. 




BY EVA WILKINS 



"Oh, Miss Edith, here is a baby screech-owl for 
you ! Want him?" 

"Indeed I do!" repHed the girl, as she stopped 
on the shaded clay walk and awaited the slow 
approach of the big Florida youth, who was bal- 
ancing a tiny owl on his forefinger. 

"But, Mr. Stiggins, the little creature is al- 
most dead — oh, please take' him back to his 
mother," Edith pleaded on getting a nearer view 
of the limp four inches of* mottled gray and 
white. .'■ ■. . V, 

"Impossible. All family ties are .broken. The 
nest was under the eaves of the laboratory. We 
fellows did not mean to tumble it down, but just 
to get the little owls. This mite of. a chap came 
fluttering down and I caught him, but the others 
got away." 

"When did this happen ?" 

"Last evening just after sunset." 

"Then, of course, he is hungry. Come, you 
funny, speckled baby, and I will find something 
for you to eat, — there, pet," and the girl gently 
removed the owlet from its perch, and pressed 
it against her warm pink cheek. 

"You reckon the bird will thrive in a college 
dormitory?" smilingly asked Miss Edith's escort 
when they reached the girls' hall. 

"Thrive ! indeed he will thrive in my quiet 
room among the tree tops. Now is a good time 
to smuggle him in while most of the girls are at 
classes, for he is not strong enough yet to be 
petted overmuch. He looks like the gray shadow 
of some happier bird. Shadow — Wee Shadow ! 
that shall be his name. — Thank you so much for 
Shadow, and good-by, Mr. Stiggins," Edith 
said, as she entered a door of Cloverleaf Cottage. 



When Edith reached her high-up, sunny room 
she laid the gray owlet on the bed while she 
made him a nest of Florida moss which she 
pressed firmly into a small wooden box. 

"What do owls eat? What do you want, Wee 
Shadow?" she had questioned anxiously as she 
worked. 

"I '11 try you first with soft bread. Here, 
dear," said Edith presently, as she seated herself 
by Wee Shadow's nest. 

Firmly the girl forced open the owlet's closed 
bill, and putting a bit of soft bread on the tip of 
an orange spoon she attempted to drop it into the 
bird's little, triangular pink mouth. To her in- 
tense relief she discovered that when the bread 
touched the bird's tongue it would swallow at 
once. 

"Now, Wee Shadow, sit back on your moss 
and in two hours you may eat again," said Edith 
after many swallows had been successfully ac- 
complished. 

This suggestion seemed very satisfactory to 
Shadow, who sank back, and dropped immedi- 
ately into a peaceful sleep, and Miss Edith re- 
turned to her studies. 

"Oh, you naughty little pepper-box!" exclaimed 
Edith two hours later, when she returned to give 
Shadow his supper, for on being disturbed he 
stood erect, and snapped his little hooked beak 
together most viciously. 

During his supper Shadow gobbled and 
snapped, but when he had eaten all he could, like 
a dear, ungrateful pet he cuddled against Edith's 
cheek and went fast asleep. 

The next day Edith decided that Shadow was 
strong enough to bear admiration, and the other 



40 



THE VISIT OF "WEE SHADOW" 



[Nov., 



girls were invited in to see him eat. On that day 
shredded meat was added to his menu, but Edith 
never permitted anything more. 

It was an accident, however, that revealed 
Shadow in what became his most popular 
"stunt." Once Edith failed to get the orange 
spoon out of Shadow's mouth with sufficient 
promptness, and he shut his 
curved beak down on the tip 
of the spoon. Then, perched 
on Edith's finger, firmly 
holding the spoon as long as 
himself at a dignified, down- 
ward angle, he stared with 
solemn, reproachful eyes. 

The girls shrieked with 
laughter when Shadow went 
through his "spoon stunt," 
and certainly he was a very 
funny bird, for his small 
wings were held closely to 
his sides, and he had never a 
vestige of a tail, and above 
his solemn eyes his pert little 
ears made corners to his 
square head, which was quite 
as wide as his body. 

Gertrude, who roomed 
across the hall, said Shad- 
ow's head looked like a 
little clock, his two yellow- 
green eyes making twin faces 
that said "hands off" plainly 
enough. 

One morning Gertrude 
came in, and saying "Sweet 
one" in her pleasantest voice 
reached out her hand to 
smooth the baby owl's speck- 
led breast. 

"Careful, Gertrude, Shad- 
ow is never sweet-tempered 
in the morning," said Edith '^ '"^'" 

as she saw Wee Shadow get- 
ting very erect, but her warning came too late, 
for as she spoke the bird threw himself on his 
back, and with beak and claws made a fierce 
attack on the smoothing hand. 

"Why, you horrid little thing!" cried the visitor 
drawing back, and nursing her wounded hand. 

"No, he 's not horrid, it 's ju.st his nature when 
he is not acquainted — and sometimes when he is," 
said Edith, as she handed out the cold cream and 
a bit of soft linen to her wounded friend, and 
then seated herself by Shadow's box. 

"Now, Shadow, you little sinner, make Ger- 
trude forget how naughty you are," Edith mur- 



mured. "Just turn your little head as I move this 
spoon. That 's right ; quite around. Some time I 
shall forget, and keep moving the spoon in the 
same direction, and you will wring your own 
little head off. Now you may do your spoon 
stunt for Gertrude." 

The little bird obligingly performed this act 







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r ^ -^ 




Em ..1'..- 




^|H 


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1 




if:: -i^c^^^frvuM 


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^m 


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1 


lH 


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■> 


I'" 






■ 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H^ -r 






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^B^i£Bi^l 




:a - 

1 


|3^K i'et 



■,K OWL WITH NOISELESS WING HAD DROPPED 
TO THE WINDOW LEDGE." 

with his usual dignity, turning his "clock face," 
as she called it, toward Gertrude, imtil for laugh- 
ing she forgot to cool her fingers, and quite for- 
gave the wee performer. 

The little owl never attempted to fly by day, 
even when Edith darkened the room, but during 
the evening study-hour Edith would often pause 
in her writing to watch him first stretch up tall 
and think about flying, and then venture on his 
little wings. His flight, however, was swift and 
noiseless, though at first he did not select his 
perches wisely, but scratched and scrambled on 
the smooth wide chair-backs. Later, all was ac- 



igoS.] 



THE VISIT OF "WEE SHADOW" 



41 



complished so silently that Edith would often be 
unable to locate him when she wished to put him 
back in his box. 

Sometimes, however, the little owl would re- 
veal his whereabouts by rapidly snapping his bill 
together when some object in his path aroused his 
uncertain temper. 

"I have been poking Shadow out from under 
the dresser with this umbrella. He hates to be 
poked, and he hates this umbrella," Edith ex- 
plained to Gertrude, who came in one evening to 
say good-night to Wee Shadow and to ask the 
cause of such continued snappings. 

Edith explained further that she was almost 
worn out for lack of sleep, for, after a few 
evenings of flittings. Shadow showed his true 
owl nature, and many times during the night she 
was awakened by the falling of some object 
brushed down by his wings, or by the thump of 
his body against the mirror. 

"Now, Shadow, I '11 put this orange branch up 

like a tree, and you must perch on it and keep 

more quiet at night, and let poor me get a little 

sleep— are you listening?" So Edith admonished 

the little owl one morning after a night of cat 

naps. For reply Shadow snapped very hard as 

though he knew he was being scolded, but he did 

not reform. 

» That evening, thinking that a moonlight walk 

K might dispose the restless baby to a quiet night, 

B- Edith took Shadow all about the campus perched 

f on her finger. He did not offer to fly, but stared 

contentedly about, and when returned to his 

orange-branch perch he was quiet until the lights 

were turned out, when he became very restless. 

Soon Edith slipped from her bed and found 
the little bird, and cuddled him up against her 
cheek, talking to him the while. 

"Oh, Shadow dear, if you are not happy here, 
I suppose I must soon give you up, but I love 
you, and am' never one bit homesick with you for 
company. You have been here now a week. That 
is a very Httle while, and you will have 
months, perhaps years, to be a grown- 
up owl — Poor birdie, you are asleep 
B and hearing nothing I am saying," 
and sadly Edith slipped Shadow onto 
his perch, and went back to bed. 



That night Edith was awakened soon after 
midnight by hearing Shadow's claws on the win- 
dow shade. She got up at once to prevent him 
from hurting himself, and in the dim moonlight 
could just discern him clinging to the shade. He 
seemed grateful, however, to perch on her finger, 
but she could not quiet him, and he kept making 
little squeaking calls. 

"Why, Wee Shadow, why do you make this 
new call and open your poor little mouth so very 
wide ?" questioned Edith anxiously, as, still hold- 
ing the little owl, she sat down on the floor close 
to the screened window. 

Edith had been quiet but a moment when she 
heard a gentle stirring among the branches of the 
oak-tree that brushed against the screen. Then 
came a low, sweet note, and bravely little Shadow 
answered. 

"Oh, I 've lost you, my precious pet !" Edith 
breathed, and put the baby owl close up against 
her cheek. The caress did not quiet the little 
bird as always before. 

Edith turned her head to look more closely 
among the oak leaves, and was startled to dis- 
cover that a large owl with noiseless wing had 
dropped to the wide window ledge, and was 
sitting, still and dim, and peering with great 
mysterious eyes into the room. 

Startled as she was, Edith noted with surprise 
that the old bird was twice as tall as the baby 
that Edith had supposed almost full-grown, so 
pretty and perfect were his feathers. 

Some movement of Edith's in making ready to 
raise the screen was heard by the owl without, 
and with no sound it disappeared into the oak 
branches and again repeated the low, sweet note. 

Edith opened the screen, and, after tenderly 
kissing the little bird, she held it out beyond the 
ledge. Wee Shadow spread his little wings and 
flew right toward the call. 

"Ah !" exclaimed Edith under her breath after 
listening a moment to Shadow's excited squeaks, 
for another large owl dropped down into 
the oak branches, and Shadow ceased 
his little cries ; Edith could just dis- 
cern the old bird feeding him. 

"They are so happy, and I helped 
them, anyhow," said Edith. 



Vol. XXXVI. -6. 





NKSGIVING 

Rebecca harding davis 




It is a fact that the single form of gratitude be- 
queathed to us as a habit by our godly ancestors 
was the "grace" before meals. But why limit our 
thanksgiving to food? Shall we thank God for 
beef and potatoes and not for the sunrise, or the 
flowers in the garden, or the wind among the 
trees, or the song that calls our souls up out of 
the valley of death? What of our eyes, our 
hearing, our power to think, above all, to love? 
Did He not give us these things as well as food ? 

Many of us are apt to lose much of the mean- 
ing out of life by failing to see that its innocent 
pleasures are direct messages from our unknown 
Father. Many pious, earnest people, striving to 
do their whole duty in their homes, starve and 
cripple their lives by failing to feed them with 
innocent comforts and pleasures. The real nec- 
essary sacrifices they make for those dependent 
on them are not a whit more effective Jjecause 
they never hearten themselves by a holiday or a 
joke. That wise woman, Charlotte Yonge, tells 
us in time of prolonged family worry to "Keep a 
good novel in the work-basket by way of re- 
pairs." 

Whoever a young girl is, she may be sure of 
one thing, — that she will know her work in the 
world. The Master never leaves any of us in 
doubt about that. It may be hard and bitter. 
But He never fails, too, to give us strength in 
soul for it, and presently He sends the help we 
need in commonplace little ways, perhaps in the 
song of birds, in growing things, in the cheery 
gossip of neighbors. After all, the world itself 
is His great letter of love to His children, and 
many are the words of it. The growing corn has 
a message from Him to us, and every tree in the 
wood, and the chickens in the farm-yard, and the 
fishes in the stream, and all Hving things. Only, 
too often, we do not learn their language, nor 
listen to them. 

Then there is the world itself, with its great 
nations and their gospels of knowledge which 
are ready to widen and strengthen our lives, but 



which so many of us are apt to neglect, our 
minds being full of our own little concerns. It is 
Charles Kingsley, I think, who tells us of meet- 
ing in California an old friend who never had 
been known to leave England for a day. 

"Why, John!" cried Mr. Kingsley, "what are 
you doing here, so far from Piccadilly?" 

But his friend did not smile. He drew him 
gravely aside. "There was a queer thing hap- 
pened to me," he said. "I dreamed one night 
that I had died and was making my way to the 
gate of heaven, when an angel met me. 'How 
can you face God,' he said, 'when you never have 
taken the trouble even to see the beautiful world 
He made for you to live in? Go back to it.' So 
I came back, and I am now finding out for the 
first time all that He has done for me." 

The story may not be a fact, biit there is a pro- 
found truth in it. The wonder and the beauty of 
this world which God made to be our home, are 
a part of the life which He gives us, which we 
often put aside and leave unnoticed and unknown 
through all of our busy years. True, we may 
not have money to travel, but if we never see the 
glories of the Jungfrau or of a Brazilian forest, 
wonders as mysterious and beautiful wait for us 
in every pool and on every mossy tree trunk. If 
we knew more of this house, built countless ages 
ago for us to live in, and of the tribes who in- 
habit it, we should not waste so much of our 
lives in brooding over our own little family and 
kitchen worries. 

I once met a little woman whose plan of life 
and methods to defeat old age seem to me so 
sane and odd, that I will tell you of her. 

She was the widow of an English physician, 
left with small means and two boys whom she 
had educated and placed, one in India, the other 
in Melbourne. Her work for them was done. 
She was sixty-five. Her income was small, her 
lungs were weak. Most women in such a case 
would have settled down with drugs and doctors 
as their only . thought, and begun to prepare 



THANKSGIVING 



43 



for the next world. Not so Jane Perry. She 
made her home in a hill-town of Tuscany, where 
the air was pure and healing and never there- 
after even mentioned her ailments. She already 
spoke Italian. "I have been studying languages 
all my life," she said; "I want to be able to talk 
to all of my kinsfolk." She had a sound, unpre- 
tentious knowledge of art and architecture; she 
eagerly studied the history of the place, and in 
six months there was not a legend nor a great 
picture nor a bit of medieval carving in the old 
fortress-like palaces of the town which she did not 
know and love as if she had been a native. She 
soon made friends with the good Sisters who 
nursed the paupers in the great Spedale or hos- 
pital ; they took comfort in telling her of their 
patients, and she contrived to bring to them cer- 
tain helpful appliances which were in use in Lon- 
don. One of the industries of the town was 
leather-work. She learned to bind books, to gild 
and tool them, and so was able to send home 
beautiful gifts to her friends. 

She discovered in one of the cellars where 
poor folk burrow, a crippled girl who made fine 
lace, and she found regular sale for it in Rome 
with an English dealer. She was in the midst of 
the silk-raising district of Tuscany; in a year 
she had studied all the mysteries of the industry, 
knew the diseases which attack the tree and the 
cocoon and their remedies. She visited the con- 



tadini, or peasants, in their little farms, and was 
counted as their best friend. Meanwhile, she 
kept up her knowledge of affairs abroad, read 
the English and French papers daily, and youi 
may be sure no revolution could come to the-, 
light in Russia, nor royal wedding be planned in^. 
London, and escape Jane Perry's eye. Every-- 
body in the strange old medieval town, from the- 
stately Podesta [Chief Magistrate] down to the old 
women shrieking and pushing their carts of on- 
ions and artichokes through the narrow lanes, 
knew the queer little woman with her widow's 
cap, and her kind homely face, and loved her. 
She helped everybody, if but by a friendly look, 
and she never meddled. 

"Why," I asked her, one day, "should you 
spend so much time in the study of the present 
condition of Italian emigrants? What possible 
use can you make of such knowledge ?" 

She laughed and colored. "As we grow near 
to the end," she said, "we are afraid to be ignor- 
ant of any work to which we may be called to 
reach a helping hand. Our time is so short." 

That, it seems to me, is the kind of life which 
is one long, genuine thanksgiving. W^e may 
never reach the height of the great Danish Earl 
Brithnoll, who, with his last breath cried out : 
"God ! I thank Thee for all the joy I have had 
in this good world !" but we can follow Jane 
Perry's humble methods of praising God daily. 




THE HOUSEHOLD FAIRY 



Have you heard of the household fairy sweet. 
Who keeps the home so bright and neat? 
Who enters the rooms of boys and girls. 
And finds lost marbles or smooths out curls? 
Who mends the rent in a girlie's frock, — 
Or darns the hole in a Tomboy's sock? 

If you don't believe it is true, I say 
You may search and find her-this very day, 
In your home. 



You must not look for a maiden fair, 
With starry eyes and golden hair ; 
Her hair may be threaded with silver gray 
But one glance of her eyes drives care away. 
And the touch of her hand is so soft and light 
When it smooths out a place for your head at night. 
If you know of some one just like this, 
My household fairy you cannot miss, — 
It 's "Mother." 

Alice B. Hiding'. 




ll€(p2R€e:rau€je:i25 




/iciOeLun 



{Wzih humble apologies to Sir John Froissart. See page g2) 

BY ARTHUR UPSON 

The Queen of Navarre, and pale Queen Blanche, and the 
old king's widow, Jane, 
Were all besieged by a Norman duke, at Melun by the Seine: 
Three thousand lances leveled fair against that city's wall 
Led by the lords de Fenestrages, de Coucy, and St. Pol ! 

Now the moment when they saw these men all riding mailed 
and armed 
Those ladies fair in the castle there began to be alarmed; 
And old Queen Jane with her might and main cried out with trem- 
bling lips, 
"Oh dear, I fear to stay up here, my gentle Governor Pippes ! " 

My lords John Pippes and Carbinaux, 
the governors of that town. 
When they heard her word were very much 
stirred, and frowned 
a fretful frown: ^ 




THE THREE QUEENS AT MELUN 

A 



45 




Then up there spake the pale Queen Blanche, the sister to Navarre. 
"My lords John Pippes and Carbinaux, I never did like war ! " 

SP - The lords de Fiennes and d' Andreghen and the prelate bold of Troyes, 
Straight up they run towards Melun with a perfectly awful noise; 
All round that tower for half an hour they cast so many stones 
The Queen of Navarre at last gets up and says in cooing tones: 



"My lords John Pippes and Carbinaux, is it quite good taste to sit 
And let them throw things at us so? — you see we might get hit ! " 
The gallant Pippes he smote his hips, and he quoth to Carbinaux, 
'Alack, good sooth, 't is truth, 't is truth! How could the lady know?" 

So my lords went down to the gates of the town and opened them 
with their keys. 
And the Norman horde straight through them poured as easily as you 

please; 
The worthy priest proposed a feast, which ended with a dance, 
And all were very much pleased indeed with those three fair queens 




THE LIFE-SAVERS 



BY ARTHUR W. STAGE 



"Who-o-o-oh ! Who-o-o-oh ! Who-o-o-oh ! Who- 
o-o-oh !" 

Rising faintly above the roar of the surf and 
the howl of the wind, came the low, hoarse moan 
of a steamboat siren. The three children, their 
faces pressed close to the window, listened in- 
tently while their eager eyes tried to pierce the 
darkness that had settled down over angry Lake 
Michigan. 

"Did you hear that?" whispered Dumpty. 

"Is it the boat?" asked Twaddle, her eyes light- 
ing up with expectation. 

"Sounded like— Listen !" said Twiddle, inter- 
rupting himself. 

"Who-o-o-oh!" Again came the hoarse moan 
from out of the distance. The children strained their 
ears to catch it, but a fierce, abrupt gust of wind 
shook the house and drowned out all other sounds. 

The children shrank back from the window in 
dismay at the violence of the storm. They had 
spent the whole long summer beside changeable 
Lake Michigan, but never had they seen it rage 
under the lashing of such a gale as this. The up- 
roar created by wind and wave would have been 
terrifying enough had Father and Mother been 
there to inspire courage with their comforting 
presence ; but with Father and Mother miles away 
— perhaps at that very minute out on the tossing 
deep — it was no wonder the children felt their 
hearts go down, down, down ! 

That morning when Mr. and Mrs. Drummond 
had sailed away on the lake steamer Prudence for 
a few hours' shopping in the city up the shore, the 
great lake had rippled harmlessly in the sun. 
Then lowering clouds had blotted out the sunlight, 
and a sudden September hurricane had come up 
out of the west with startling abruptness. The 
dancing waves had mounted into mighty foam- 
capped billows and the gentle surf had turned 
into ' a roaring monster that crashed thunder- 
ously upon the beach and stretched forth raven- 
ously as if to swallow all within its reach. 

Night had fallen and still the Prudence had not 
appeared on its homeward trip, although it was 
due to poke its nose around the point at four 
o'clock. Even a Chicago liner would have had 
trouble in that awful sea, and the children hoped 
fervently that Captain Alber had kept the Pru- 
dence safe in port. 

Then came the moan of the whistle. It told 
them what they feared— that the Prudence was 
out in the storm ! 



"That is the boat !" declared Twiddle. 
"Who-o-oh! Who-o-oh! Who-o-oh ! Who- 
o-oh!" Once more the siren sounded above the 
racket of the storm. 

"Four blasts. That 's the signal of distress!" 
exclaimed Dumpty. 

"Look ! Look !" shrieked Twaddle, almost go- 
ing through the window in her excitement. 

Dumpty and Twiddle gave a sharp gasp. The 
sky to the north, which a moment before had been 
a vacant black, was now lighted by a blood-red 
glare. 

"It 's a fire!" shouted Dumpty. 
"Maybe the boat," echoed Twiddle. 
"Who-o-oh! Who-o-oh! Who-o-oh! Who- 
o-oh !" wailed the siren as if in answer. 

"I 'm going to see," declared Dumpty, taking 
the leadership by right of his two years superior- 
ity over the ten-year-old twins. "Come on to the 
lookout. 

The lookout was a tall pine-tree on top of a 
near-by sand-dune. High up in the branches was 
a platform from which they could see across the 
point and far up and down the lake. The path 
up the dune was difficult even in the daytime, but 
now in the dark, with the hurricane lashing the 
trees and undergrowth, the children found it 
strewn with unfamiliar obstacles and chilling 
fears of vague, unknown dangers. 

Near the top was an open stretch of sand. 
Here the gale caught them with such a fury they 
had to drop to their hands and knees, and creep 
across to the foot of the tall pine. 

"Stay here, while I climb up," ordered Dumpty, 
and the trembling twins obeyed. The tree, ex- 
posed to the full force of the hurricane, swayed 
to and fro, its branches thrashing about furiously. 
Had Dumpty been less brave or less strong, he 
would have given up the perilous climb at the 
start. He could scarcely cling to the shaking 
trunk. The wind beat and tore at him. The 
boughs slapped viciously in his face. Only the 
fear he had for the safety of the boat kept him 
going upward. Inch by inch he mounted higher. 
Finally his head bumped sharply against the plat- 
form. Dumpty swung himself over the edge, and 
his eyes turned eagerly toward the north. Ah, 
there it was ! The boat ! 

"What is it?" shrilled Twiddle and Twaddle 
from the darkness below. 

"The boat!" shouted back Dumpty. 
"Is it on fire?" cried the twins. 



46 



THE LIFE-SAVERS 



47 



Dumpty looked sharply. The boat was nearly 
two miles to the north, yet the red glow revealed 
it plainly. No ! It was n't on fire ! Still, the 
light came from it ! Dumpty was puzzled. 
The red flare looked like— yes, it was red fire 
such as he often used on the Fourth of July. 
Could the boat be celebrating? And why was it 
so close in shore? It should have been far out 
to keep off the dangerous shallows. 

Then there flashed into Dumpty's mind the 
meaning of it all. The boat was already in the 
shallows! The red light was a signal — a signal 
of distress. Now he remembered having once 
been told that a red light on the water was a 
hurry-call to the life-savers — an alarm as sharp 
and emphatic as that which sends a fire depart- 
ment rushing pell-mell down a city street ! 

But would the life-savers see it? Dumpty's 
heart grew suddenly heavy as the thought came 
to him. The boat was four miles from the life- 
saving station. Between them was the high 
wooded point and a curve in the coast. The 
chances were that the life-savers would not no- 
tice the signal. 

"Who-o-oh ! Who-o-oh ! Who-o-oh ! Who- 
o-oh !" came the boat's moaning cry for aid. That 
call decided Dumpty. He and the twins must carry 
the alarm to the life-saving station, carry it 
through the storm and night, carry it swiftly and 
without halt. Another instant he was sliding, 
bumping his way to the ground. He landed in a 
heap almost on top of the frightened twins. 

"The boat 's ashore in the shallows ! We must 
fetch the life-savers! Come on!" shouted 
Dumpty, racing ahead of them down the path. 
At the bottom he paused. Which way should they 
go? — By the beach or through the woods? 

The road through the woods was shorter, but it 
held many fears for the children. Once, in trav- 
eling it, they had seen a gang of tramp berry- 
pickers encamped beside a stream. Another time 
they had met three ragged Indians right where 
the forest was darkest. Although they knew that 
many "tame" Pottawatomies lived peacefully on 
farms around about, they dreaded another meeting. 

"Let 's go by the beach," urged Twiddle. 

"Yes ! Yes !" chimed in Twaddle. 

Dumpty started toward the beach. Then he 
thought of the deep sands. Travel through them 
would be slow. The road, on the contrary, was 
firm, and they could go fast. Delay might mean 
death to the persons on the boat. Bravely crush- 
ing down his fears, Dumpty made his decision. 

"We must take the road," he said. He led the 
way up the path toward the highway, and the 
twins staunchly followed. They started on a run, 
but soon Twaddle was panting painfully. 



"Oh, I can't go so fast," she gasped. 

"We ought to save our wind," declared Twid- 
dle, mindful of a lesson 'he had learned in watch- 
ing high-school runners train. Dumpty slowed 
up, and they half walked, half ran. At the top of 
the bluff, the path turned into the road. The 
hard gravel gave the children a firm foothold, and 
the gale behind helped to carry them along rap- 
idly. It was very dark but they could just see 
where they were going. 

Soon a black mass seemed to loom up all around 
them, and they felt the force of the wind lessen. 
They knew they were in the woods. The children 
grasped each other's hands, and went on faster 
than ever. Twaddle was getting tired, but the 
boys, one on each side, helped to pull her along. 
Up a little hill they went, down into a valley, and 
then around a bend. What they saw there 
brought them to an abrupt halt. 

In a little hollow beside the road, a camp-fire 
was blazing brightly. Behind it were two large 
covered wagons. Around it were grouped seven 
or eight dark figures. 

"Gipsies !" whispered Twiddle. 

"Oh, let 's run !" exclaimed Twaddle, pulling 
back. 

"No !" whispered Dumpty, getting a firmer 
grasp on her hand. "We must creep past them !" 

"I 'm afraid!" sobbed Twaddle. 

"It 's blowing so, they can't hear us," said 
Twiddle reassuringly. 

"We must get help for the boat. Come on!" 
ordered Dumpty. 

All three children were trembling with fear. 
But courage does not consist in not being afraid. 
It consists in going ahead in spite of fear— and 
Dumpty, Twiddle, and Twaddle went ahead. 

Creeping along on the opposite side of the road, 
and crouching down low, they made their way 
past the fire. The gipsies were busy eating their 
supper and they did not glance toward the chil- 
dren. They were so near, however, that their 
talk and laughter could be heard plainly. The 
children expected any moment to have a pair of 
sharp eyes spy them out. 

One pair of eyes did find them. They had sto- 
len by the camp safely and were beginning to 
hurry along again when there came a quick crash- 
ing from the underbrush. Startled, the children 
broke into a run. At the same instant a dog, 
barking fiercely, dashed out into the road. It was 
almost at their heels and escape seemed impossi- 
ble. 

By a flicker of light from the gipsies' fire, 
Twiddle saw a stick in the road. Letting go 
Twaddle's hand, he stooped quickly and grasped 
it. Then he turned and faced the dog. 



48 



THE LIFE-SAVERS 



[Nov., 



The animal, taken by surprise, stopped short. 
It snapped at Twiddle and he lunged with the 
club. The dog dodged, but almost before Twiddle 
recovered his balance, the brute rushed forward 
again. Twiddle swung the club, and this time the 
dog in terror turned and ran. Twiddle waited to 
see no more, but ran after Dumpty and Twaddle. 

The children feared pursuit by the gipsies, but 
there was none, and in a few minutes the three, 
all out of breath, found themselves clear of the 
woods. The run had tired them, and it seemed 
that they could never get to the life-saving sta- 
tion, still more than a mile away. Yet they pluck- 
ily hurried on. 

Presently, above the roar of the storm, they 
heard a low rumble ahead of them. 

"Listen!" said Dumpty. Twaddle squeezed his 
hand closer. 

"It 's a wagon," said Twiddle. 

"We '11 stop it," shouted Dumpty, "and get the 
driver to help us !" 

The wagon was coming at a rapid rate, and 
almost before they knew it, the horses were 
sweeping past. 

"Stop! Stop! Oh, stop, mister!" yelled the 
children. 

"Stop it !" cried Dumpty. 

The wagon was traveling so fast that it was al- 
most upon them. The children set up a shout. 
The noise of the wagon alrnost drowned out their 
voices, but the driver heard. He pulled up 
abruptly. 

"What 's the matter?" he asked gruffly, swing- 
ing a lantern into the faces of the children as they 
ran forward. 

"Oh, mister, the Prudence is ashore, and we 
want to get the life-savers," exclaimed the chil- 
dren in a chorus. 

"Prudence ashore? Where?" asked the man. 

"In the Shallows! It needs help, quick!" an- 
swered Dumpty. 

"We get life-savers ! Climb in !" said the man, 
and the children quickly clambered over the 
wheels. As the driver swung his lantern beneath 
the seat, the light shone on his face. The chil- 
dren shrank back in the wagon in quick fear. The 
man was an Indian ! Before they recovered from 
the shock of surprise, the Indian whipped his 
horses into a gallop. Then Dumpty jumped for- 
ward. 

"Oh, you 're going the wrong way !" he 
shouted. 

"This way quicker," shouted back the Indian. 
Dumpty, fearing treachery, prepared to leap out. 
At that moment the horses turned into a side 
road, and Dumpty was hurled to the bottom of 
the wagon. When he regained his feet, the 



wagon was out of the woods, and pulling up in 
front of a farm-house. 

The Indian tossed the reins to Dumpty, jumped 
out, and ran to the door. It was opened by an 
old farmer. 

"Why, Wampan, what 's up?" he asked. 

"Steamboat ashore! Telephone life-savers!" 
answered Wampan shortly, pushing his way into 
the house. 

"The telephone ! I had n't thought of that !" 
exclaimed Dumpty, suddenly relieved. 

Quickly the message went over the wires to the 
life-saving station, and as quickly came the 
answer that the crew was ready to rush to the 
rescue. 

"An awful night for a wreck," declared the 
farmer. "Heaven pity the poor souls on board. 
Here, Tom, Jim, Frank, turn out !" he cried to his 
sons. "We must help ! Load up that wagon with 
blankets !" 

Quickly every bed in the house was stripped, 
and the coverings piled in the wagon. The chil- 
dren could not understand why, but at least they 
made a soft cushion. The men climbed in, too, 
and Wampan, taking the reins, turned back to 
the highway. Two lights were rapidly approach- 
ing. 

"The life-savers !" shouted the farmer. Wam- 
pan pulled up, waiting until the two teams bearing 
the life-savers and their apparatus dashed up. 
"This way!" he shouted, driving ahead to the 
north. The horses were pushed to a gallop, but 
to the anxious children it seemed that they only 
crawled. Presently, however, the farmer gave 
a shout. 

"There she is !" he cried. The children raised 
up quickly. They had reached the shore drive 
where the road ran along the very edge of the 
bluff. The lake lay directly beneath. A mile 
ahead, lighting up water, earth, and sky with its 
fiery signal for help, lay the Prudence. 

"She 's a goner !" shouted one of the men. The 
children, looking in awe at the terrifying tumult 
of waters, felt that what he said was a final sen- 
tence. Even as they looked, the signal sputtered 
out, leaving lake and land in darkness. Only a 
tiny masthead light marked the position of the 
steamer. Wampan never drew rein. One false 
move would have sent the wagon tumbling over 
the cliff, but the Indian, with the instinct of his 
race, guided the horses unerringly. Not until the 
light was directly opposite did he slacken the 
pace. Then, turning into a steep lane running 
down the side of the bluff, he led the way to the 
beach. Without wasting a moment, the life-savers 
began to set up their apparatus, the farmers help- 
ing them. Wampan turned to the children. 



i 



igoS.] 



THE LIFE-SAVERS 



49 



"We make fire," he cried. The children, only 
too eager to help, picked up such pieces of drift- 
wood as they could find by the light of the lan- 
terns. \Mth this wood and straw from his wagon, 




AT THE GIPSY CAMP. 

Wampan built up a bonfire. Over it he threw the 
oil from his lantern, and a match set it all ablaze. 
As it flared up, the rushing wind brought the 
faint sound of a cheer. The people on the boat 
had seen the fire and knew that help was at hand. 
An instant later a signal-light flashed out on the 
steamer. 

Vol. XXXVL — 7. 



The brilliant glare disclosed a scene that al- 
most froze the blood of the children. Out in the 
midst of huge waves that crashed against it and 
swept over it, lay the battered wreck of the Pru- 
dence. All about it, and 
cutting off the way to the 
shore -were great masses of 
water, rolling, tumbling, 
surging, breaking, rushing, 
and heaving. The boat was 
already going to ]Meccs. Her 
funnel had been carried 
away. Her upper works 
were nearly gone. Her life- 
boats had disappeared. The 
waves broke and beat upon 
the wreck in spiteful anger, 
seeming to snatch viciously 
at the small group gathered 
around the foremast. The 
signal-light tinged the whole 
picture with a blood-red glare 
that added to the terror of 
the sight. 

The steamer seemed be- 
yond all human help. No 
life-boat could live a minute 
in the angry surf. A swim- 
mer would be mercilessly 
battered to death. The awful 
power of the angry deep had 
been unloosened, and what 
could men do before it ? The 
children sobbed aloud as they 
looked upon the doomed boat. 
Would they ever again see 
their father and mother 
alive? Almost hopelessly 
they turned toward the life- 
savers. 

The brave men in oilskins 
were working with a fever- 
ish energy. Some were 
deftly arranging lines and 
rigging. Others were aiming 
a small cannon toward the 
boat. 

"Oh, what are they going 
to do?" cried Twaddle. 

"Shoot out a life-line," 
answered Dumpty, quick hope following on his 
fears. 

"Oh, and bring them ashore in the breeches- 
buoy," shouted Twiddle, jumping up and down in 
excitement. 

"It 's the only chance," declared the old far- 
mer, shaking his head. 




'OH, DON'T GIVE UP, PLEASE. TRY AGAIN! TRY AGAIN I 

50 



THE LIFE-SAVERS 



51 



"Ready!" cried the life-savers' captain; and 
then, "Fire !" 

"Boom!" went the cannon, startling the chil- 
dren so that they lost sight of the flying line. A 
sharp exclamation from the captain told the re- 
sult. 

"Missed!" he cried. "Load again!" 

"You '11 never get a line out there against this 
hurricane !" cried the old farmer. 

"Oh-oh-oh !" wailed Twaddle. The boys just 
gripped her hands hard, and watched the life- 
savers. 

Again the cannon was aimed, and again came 
the order to fire. A second roar, and the line 
went flying out in the face of the wind. Straight 
for the boat it sped, then the wind caught it and 
hurled it back, fifty feet short of its mark. 

"She '11 go to pieces before we get a line to 
her," said a life-saver. 

Suddenly Twaddle dropped on her knees in the 
sand and, raising her hands to the farmer, said: 

"Oh, don't give up, please. Try again ! Try 
again!" 

Just then there came a momentary lull in the 
hurricane. The cannon was ready. 

"Boom!" it roared. Strong and swift sped the 
line out into the lake. Right over the boat it 
shot, and then, as the weight plunged into the 
waves, it fell across the deck. 

A cheer came from the steamer. The children 
danced about in their joy. The life-savers quickly 
tied the shore end of the line to a heavier rope. 
The men on the boat hauled this out, and then by 
means of it pulled through the waves a rope cable, 
a block and tackle, and two smaller lines. 

Meantime several of the life-savers set up on 
the beach a framework consisting of two large 
timbers crossed. It was intended to support the 
shore end of the cable. 

Soon the drag upon the heavy rope ceased. A 
moment later a signal showed that it had been 
made fast to the mast. The life-savers hauled it 
taut, and quickly adjusted the breeches-buoy. This, 
true to its name, looked like nothing else than a 
large pair of leather trousers suspended from a 
sort of pulley that ran along the cable. It was 
pulled back and forth by means of the smaller lines. 

Hauling away lustily, the life-savers sent the 
buoy dancing out over the waves. The children 
watched it with intent eyes. That small leather 
pouch, thrashing about in the gale as though it 
were a sheet on a clothes-line, carried the only 
hope of rescue to the people on the wrecked 
steamer. If it did its work well, they would 
cross the death-dealing waters back to life and 
safety. If it failed — the children shuddered to 
think what would happen if it failed. 



Swiftly the buoy ran out to the boat. There 
was a moment's pause as the sailors fastened 
some one into the breeches. Another signal fol- 
lowed. 

"Haul away!" commanded the life-saving cap- 
tain. The eager life-savers and helping farmers 
pulled with a will, and the loaded buoy, swinging 
over the side of the steamer, started on its peril- 
ous trip across the surging billows. 

The cable sagged under the weight, and the an- 
gry waves, leaping up like hungry dogs, almost 
caught the buoy and its living burden. Nearer and 
nearer they surged as the biiiov advanced. The 
children held their breaths fcarfiig that any mo- 
ment the lake might seize its prey. As they 
watched, the steamer suddenly rolled toward 
shore, slacking the cable. Down plunged the 
buoy into the waves and beneath them ! The 
children screamed in horror ! They thought all 
was lost. But no ! The boat rolled back : the ca- 
ble grew taut : the buoy swished up from the 
water, and its precious burden bounded high 
above the fate that yawned below. 

Again and again the waves grasped at the buoy, 
but a strong pull snatched it quickly from their 
slippery clutches. Soon it was swinging q.ver 
the outer edges of the thundering surf. 

"It 's a woman!" shouted Dumpty. 

"Is it Mama ?" cried Twaddle, running close to 
the water. 

"She has a little girl!" declared sharp-eyed 
Twiddle. 

Rushing in from the lake was a monster wave. 
The cable sagged, and the wave caught the buoy 
in its mighty grasp. But it was too late. The cap- 
tain, wading into the surf, caught the woman and 
child in his outstretched arms and landed them 
safe on shore. 

The beach fire flared up, shining on the white, 
tense face of the woman. 

■*Mama!" shrieked Twiddle running forward 
and throwing her arms around the woman as the 
men lifted her from the buoy. 

"Mama ! Mama !" shouted Dumpty and Twid- 
dle. 

"My children! My darlings!" cried their 
mother, clasping them to her. "Thank God, for 
sparing me to you !" 

"Mama! Mama! Mama!" was all they could 
say. 

"Get them to the fire, quick!" ordered the life- 
saving captain. The Indian and farmers, lifting 
both Mrs. Drummond and the little girl, carried 
them to the fire. There they wrapped them in 
blankets. Now the children understood why the 
beds had been stripped. The little girl was cry- 
ing and sobbing. 



52 



THE LIFE-SAVERS 



The buoy was again swinging through the surf. 
This time it held a woman and a baby. 

"Mama!" cjied Margaret. And it was. 

The next trip of the buoy brought Margaret's 
father and little brother. Then followed another 
passenger. 

"Work fast," Dumpty heard liim say as he was 
helped from the buoy. "The boat is breaking up." 

The boat breaking up ! With Father still on 
board ! Oh, would his turn come in time ? Anx- 
iously Dumpty watched the buoy go out into the 
darkness. Still more anxiously he awaited its 
return. It came, but still without Father. Again 
and again it made the trip, bringing all the pas- 
sengers and even a member of the crew, but not 
Father. Each time Dumpty's heart sank deeper. 

On the.'Jnext trip of the buoy, the boat rolled 
toward tl^ shore slacking the cable. It failed to 
roll back^as far as before, and the buoy plunged 
again and' again into the water. The life-savers 
pulled desperately, but fast as they worked, the 
man in the buoy was almost unconscious when 
they dragged him through the surf. 

"Papa !" screamed Dumpty, who was nearest. 



"My little ones!" he whispered and gathered 
them in his arms. 

But the work of rescue was not yet complete. 
Five men were still on the doomed boat. The 
life-savers, hurrying to save them, raced with 
death. One man came, then another, and a third. 

"She 's going to pieces ! The captain and mate 
are still aboard !" the third man gasped. 

Out went the buoy on a run. It reached the 
boat and started back. Quickly the life-savers 
hauled and hauled. Barely had the captain and 
mate reached shore when suddenly the cable 
sagged heavily. 

"There goes the mast !" shouted a rescued 
sailor. The children looked out. The masthead 
light which had continued to burn steadily all the 
time, had suddenly lurched far over and then 
plunged down, down, into the darkness ! The 
cable dropped uselessly into the water. 

"The boat 's gone!" cried one of the crew. 

Yes, but every one on board had been rescued ! 

"It was the children who gave the warning. 
You owe your lives to them !" said the captain of 
the life-savers. 





'THE CHILDREN GO SHUFFLING THROUGH THE LEAVES. 

53 




'GO-WON-GO, MOHAWK," AND HER FAVORITE HORSE, " BUCKSKIN." 



FOR BOYS 



AND GIRLS WHO LOVE HORSES 

( l\oo pictiucs by Cilman Lcnv) 



In New York this month might be called the 
Month of Horses, for the great yearly Horse 
Show takes place in November. For one week 
the horse is supreme; the attention he receives 
quite overshadows his great rival, the automobile, 
and even that other famous November attraction, 
foot-ball. 

So this is a timely month for St. Nicholas to 
print two pictures, taken from paintings by Gil- 
man Low, which will interest all boys and girls 
who love horses. 

The first, on the opposite page, is a portrait of 
"Go-Won-Go, IMohawk," riding her favorite horse 
"Buckskin." Concerning this picture. Mr. Low 
writes : 

" 'Go-Won-Go, Mohawk,' is well known to the 
stage, and has given performances before the 
crowned heads of Europe. She is a full-blooded 
Mohawk Indian, and she writes, produces, and 
stages her own productions. She rides 'like an 



Indian,' as has often been said of her, and never 
with a saddle. While I was painting this pic- 
ture, Go-Won-Go, Mohawk, was obliged to make 
her horse rear at least a hundred times before. I 
could get the desired action. She herself made 
nearly all of her own and Buckskin's trappings. 
More than thirty thousand beads were sewn by 
hand on her suit, the task taking her time for 
almost an entire summer, and these beads of dif- 
ferent colors are so arranged as to form orna- 
ments emblematical of her tribe." 

The second picture is that of a famous horse, 
"Hennit" by name, and of this Mr. Low says: 

" 'Hermit' is a blue ribbon horse of very fine- 
blooded stock. He swept all before him for 
several years both in New York and Boston in 
the way of blue ribbons at the annual Horse 
Shows. Hon. E. P. Shaw, of Boston, State 
Treasurer of Massachusetts, owns both the horse 
and the painting, and prizes both very highly." 




''^^, 



From a painting by Gilman Low. 



HERMIT. 

55 



... ^ >^^ 
Owned by Hon. E. P. Shaw 



THE SEASONS 



BY EDWIN L. SABIN 



Ten little toes find their smoth'ring walls unclose, 

Releasing to the sun and to the air ! 
And they squirm and wriggle, pert ; 
And they dig the fresh, moist dirt ; 
"Oh, it 's spring! We 're out of prison!" 
they declare. 

Ten little toes, where the mighty ocean flows, 

Frolicked with the ripples and the sand. 
And they blistered and they burned, 
And a golden brown they turned. 
"Hip, hurrah I" they cry. "Now summer is 
at hand." 



Ten little toes were so crowded, goodness knows, 

Back again within the prison wall ! 
And they found it rather cramped, 
As to school their master tramped; 

And they said, among themselves : "Heigho, 
't is fall." 

Ten little toes on their way one morn 'most 
froze. 
No matter tho' their prison walls were stout ! 
'Phew ! We 're mighty glad," they cried, 
"That to-day we 're not outside — ■ 

For 't is evident that winter is about." 



NOVEMBER 

BY MAY AIKEN 




November woods are bare and dark 
And filled with ghostly shadows — hark ! 
I hear the dead leaves rustling now. 
Is it the wind that shakes the bough 



Behind that tree ? It 's Indians wild — 
Oh, scare them, John — oh, save my child! 
(I 'm thankful this Thanksgiving Day 
Our Indians are only play.) 



MWAPPYCHAPS 



VERSES EY CAROLYN WELLS 
.PICTURE BY HARRISON CAOY 




Happychapter XI 



HE 



DAILY BUZZ," 
on Thanksgiving 
Day, 
Put out an extra sheet. 
And it read Hke this : 
Foot-ball To-day I 
Happy chaps aiid Skid- 
doodles play ! 
Don't Miss This 

Splendid Treat! 
Come Early a?id 
Get A Seat ! 
Come One ! Come All !■ 
Atid Join the Noise 
of 
The "Ski-doo-doo-s" and the "Rah Rah Boys!" 
Game Called at Half-past Ten 
Be Sure to be Here Then! ! 
Then Skiddoodles and Happychaps flew around 
To be in time at the big ball-ground. 
The leader of the Happychap Team 
Was Princeton Rah Rah ; he was "a dream" 
In foot-ball togs ! He was fearfully strong ! 
And though he was short, his hair was long. 
The Skiddoodle team was led» of course, 




A CHAMPION PLAYER. 



By Harvard Ski-doo-doo. He had force, 
And skill as well. And I tell you, 
Vol. XXXVI.— 8. 




It was nip and tuck between those two ! 

The field was big and long and wide ! 

Grand stands were built on either side; — 

And Skiddoodles and Happychaps loudly 

cheered. 
When their own or the other team appeared. 
The flags they fluttered, and banners waved; 
Like mad the excited crowd behaved 




\;^^^^^-"- -' "im^^^^^Smif 



"PERCY PORCUPINE CAPTURED THE BALL." 

(But whenever you 've been to a foot-ball game. 
You 've noticed, they carry on just the same). 
With a scream and shout. 
Their loud yells rang out; 
Both sides had the same, so they would n't get 
rhixed; 
' And this is the way they had it fixed. 
"Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! ! 
Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!! 
Happychaps ! Happychaps ! 
Skidoo-dle-doo-dle-doo ! !" 
The game began; and the play was great, 
And everything went at a clipping rate. 



58 



THE HAPPYCHAPS 



[Nov., 



'Til Percy Porcupine captured the ball. 
And started to run, pursued by all 




"'AN OLD-FASHIONED SNOWSTORM.'" 

The Happychaps ; but they fell back quickly 
When they touched his quills so sharp and 
prickly ! 
" 'T is n't fair !" yelled the Happychaps then. 
" 'T is fair!" yelled the Skiddoodle men. 
o 





But after a heated argument, 

P. P. was excluded by common consent. 

A centipede, too, did curious 

stunts. 
Because he could kick so 

often at once ! 
But as most Skiddoodles 

have plenty of feet. 
Of course they would rather 

play foot-ball than eat. 
The Ski-doo-s, too, were 

quite able to kick. 
So it looked as if they 

would take the trick. 
But Rah Rah Princeton's 

boys were gaining 
(What they lacked in feet, 

they made up in train- 
ing) ; 
When, all of a sudden, they 

found 't was raining ! 
Said Sir Horace Hoptoad: 

"Oh, my sakes ! 
This is n't rain. These are 

big snowflakes !" 
Then all of the audience, 

belter skelter, 
Skittled and scuttled away 

to shelter. 
The Umpire declared the 

game a tie, 
And advised the players all 

to fly. 
And get under some roof. 
Or don waterproof. 
And endeavor to keep themselves dry. 

Don't think they were cowards to stop playing ball ; 
But you must remember a Happychap small 
Is not very much bigger than nothing at all ! 
And a snowflake is almost as big as his hat; 
So when you 're remembering, recollect that! 




' SNOWBALLING WAS SPORT. 



'so HE WENT TO BED. 



igoS.] 



THE HAPPYCHAPS 



59 



The Skiddoodles and Happychaps hurried indoors. 
Some went into houses and some into stores; 
Through the windows they peered, 




And some jolly Happychaps built a snow fort. 
Old Big Chief Dewdrop 
Stuck a flag in the top, 
And said it was Fort Jollipop. 
There was skirmishing then, and the snowballs 

flew wide, 
And people were knocked down on every side. 
Were they hurt ? Oh, dear, no ! 
They only said, "Oh!" 
And then they jumped up and brushed off the 
snow. 

But some of the foemen 
Were nothing but snowmen ; 
And these received volleys till over they fell 1 
And the conquering heroes set up a loud yell. 
Snow images, too, were set up all around, 
And right in the midst of the green, on a mound, 
Was a monster snow figure, quite eight inches 

high! 
The Happychaps thought it reached 'most to the 
sky. 

They oh'd ! and they ah'd ! 



IIar r I(S"k 



THE RESCUE. 

And loudly they 
cheered. 
As the snow came steadily 

falling down. 
And formed a white carpet all 

over the town. 
The oldest inhabitants nudged 

each other. 
Saying, "This is an old-fash- 
ioned snowstorm, 
brother !" 
Then the sun came out, and 

the storm was o'er. 
On the ground was just 

enough snov/, — no more. 
'T was the kind that packs, 

and that 's the best 
For sleighing and sledding 
and all the rest 

Of the winter joys; 
And the Rah Rah Boys 
Fixed up a wonderful big bob 

sled, 
And took people coasting at so 
much a head. 

Snowballing was sport 
Of enticing sort; 




" SNOW IMAGES, TOO, WERE SET UP ALL AROUND." 

Till the snow nearly thawed, 
So warmly they all did applaud. 
The Eskimo Happychaps great delight took 



60 



THE HAPPYCHAPS 



In seein 
For the 



g how old 
Fijian chi 




Jim-Jam shivered and shook; 
ef did nothing but scold, 
As he shuddered and 

twittered and chattered 
with cold. 
He tried to get warm by the 
fireflies' gleam, 



Said Toots Happychap, "Now, I '11 teach you to 

skate. 
I '11 show you the grapevine ; the true figure 
eight ; 

And all sorts of fancy steps, 
Prancy and dancy steps. 
You who are ready, come on now ; don't wait!" 
Of course, as is usual, the skates came in pairs, 
And all the Happy- 
/.K^-iN chaps soon obtained 

\ 




He tried to get warm by the 

glowworms' beam ; 
But 't was no use at all, so he 

went off to bed. 
With a pair of big down-quilts over his head ! 
"I hate cold weather!" he gloomily said. 
On a bit of ice. Toots Happychap spied 
Two little Skidoodles slip and slide; 
"Hooray!" cried Toots, 
"Here 's a scheme that suits ! 
H the lake is friz, 
And I think it is. 
We can have an Ice Carnival! Gee whiz!" 
"A nice carnival ! What does he mean by that ?" 
Said Ali Ben Happychap, old and fat. 
He had never seen ice before, you see, 
And he was as pleased as pleased could be. 
"We '11 build an ice palace," 

Toots decreed ; 
"Yes, yes ; a nice palace," Ben 
Ali agreed. 

The work was begun, 
And, my ! it was fun ! 
They all worked like sixty, 

and soon it was done. 
The Skiddoodles cut out 

great blocks of ice. 
Which the Happychaps 

whiskedintoplace inatrice. 
And the wondrous affair 
As it rose in the air 
Was a triumph of some style 

of great architecture 
(Though what style it was, is 
beyond all conjecture!) 
But gleaming and bright. 

It shone in the light. 
With a delicate lacery sort of a tracery 
Of icicle-fringe around every story; 
And the sun touched it up with a blaze of true glory. 




THE PROCESSION UPHILL. 



Ben Ali dispensed them, as 

each name was called; 
But when the Skiddoodles came, he was ap- 
palled. 
Said Sir Horace Hoptoad, "Give me two pairs, 
please," 

Said Br'er Spider, "I '11 have 
to have four pairs of 
these !" 
The beetles took three pairs 

each ; D. Longlegs, four ; 
And some asked for six pairs, 
and some asked for more. 
But Ben Ali said 

"Whee ! 
Jiminoo ! Jiminee ! !" 
When a centipede said, 

"Fifty pairs will do me !" 

At last all were fitted with 
glittering skates, 

They learned to do grape- 
vines, and cut figure 
eights. 

And when "good nights" 
were said and all 
trotted away. 
They declared they 'd return to their skating 
next day. 



ON THE ICE. 



f 







THE GREAT ICE-CARNIVAL AT JOLLIPOPOLIS. 
6i 




^600DIESTOR"NUTCRACK"NI6HT» 

BY CHARLOTTE BREWSTER JORDAN 



1. OATMEAL MACAROONS OR MOCK-NUT WAFERS. 

2. NUT SYLLABUB. 

Now crack ye nuts, ye fire hum bright; 
Bid sprites and goblins, too, 
. A charm to weave this nntcrack night 
O'er all ye bake and brew. 

OATMEAL MACAROONS OR MOCK- 
NUT WAFERS 

Come all ye little, would-be cooks 

And join our merry band; 
Learn to prepare the toothsome foods 

Enjoyed throughout the land. 
Put on your caps and aprons quaint, 

Set out two bowls and spoons 
And butter well your biscuit-tins 

For Oatmeal Macaroons ! 



The sugar and the butter mix 

Till creamy as can be. 
Then add the beaten yolk of tgg 

And stir most thoroughly. 
In another bowl the dry things put, 

The oatmeal and the salt, 
Stirred with the baking-powder till 

They blend without a fault. 

Next, mix the contents of the bowls. 

And add vanilla, too ; 
And last the well-whipped white of egg 

Most thoroughly mixed through. 
Then drop the mixture from a spoon. 

Two inches space between. 
In little bits no larger than 

A tiny lima bean. 



3. QUEEN MARGUERITES. 

4. GINGER JACKS OR HALLOWE'EN FUDGE. 

In good slow oven let them brown; 

Before you take from pan. 
Press a walnut meat on top of each 

As quickly as you can. 
When cool and brittle, spread them out 

Upon a big, flat dish. 
And serve them to your hungry friends 

As freely as you wish. 






Note: When butter is high-priced it may be omitted 
and the macaroons will still be delicious. These little 
crisps cannot be spoiled in the making, and are warranted 
not to kill the youthful cooks or their friends. 

NUT SYLLABUB 
First, halve the lady-fingers slim. 

Then break each half in two, 
And stand inside glass dish or cup, 

A dainty sight to view. 



62 



I 



GOODIES FOR NUTCRACK NIGHT 



63 



Next add vanilla flavoring 

Unto the cream whipped light, 

And dash of powdered sugar fine 
To sweeten it just right. 

Heap high upon each cake-lined dish 

And sprinkle over all 
The salted nuts which coarsely ground 

Add zest and never pall. 



SASa-m Cv/u-OA, Ivcu 



t^AO^ 









QUEEN MARGUERITES 

Four tablespoons of boiling water 
With sugar, just one cup. 
Together boil till bubbles big 
Show that it 's waxing up. 
If dropped in water cold it makes 

A soft and waxy ball. 
Remove to back of range and add 
The marshmallows cut small. 

This mixture gradually pour, 

While stirring constantly, 
Into the dish of white of eggs 

Beat stiff as they can be. 
Vanilla, cocoanut and nuts 

Put last into the bowl 
Will give the final toothsome touch, 

Complete the dainty whole. 

A little of this mixture place 

In center of saltines. 
Then slightly brown in oven hot. 

And serve your queen of queens. 

Before you mix your candies fine, 
Observe this general rule,— 

Rub butter on the kettle's edge 
As done in cooking-school: 

For then there zvill no danger be 

Of boiling over suddenly. 



Note : The marshmallows and shredded cocoanut may 
be omitted, if preferred, and the remaining ingredients 
mixed with the white of but one egg. Either way they 
are delicious, and the recipe makes about forty dainty tid- 
bits for afternoon tea, evening jollification, or dessert. 

GINGER JACKS OR HALLOWE'EN 
FUDGE 

Sugar and milk together boil 

Until in water cold 
They make a soft elastic ball 

Between the fingers rolled. 

Remove at once from off the fire; 

Let stand until lukewarm 
Where no rude jar nor shaking up 

Can do it any harm. 

Then beat to the consistency 
Of good, rich, country cream ; 

Vanilla add and cinnamon. 
And butter's golden gleam. 

Salt, nuts and ginger stir-in last; 

Pour all in buttered pan; 
When cool and hardening, cut 

In squares, as many as you can. 









ni^lDRlC- BOYHOODS. 

^Rl/PEm^- SARG'ENT- HOLLAND 



V. WALTER SCOTT: THE BOY OF THE CANONGATE 



The business office of a Writer to the Signet, as 
a Scotch lawyer is called, is not an especially 
cheerful place at any time, and the interior of 
such a room looked particularly cheerless on a 
late winter afternoon in Edinburgh in 1786. A 
boy of fifteen sat on a high stool at an old oak 
.desk, and watched the snow falling in the street. 
Occasionally he could see people passing the win- 
dows : men and women wrapped to their ears in 
plaid shawls, for the wind whistled down the 
street so loudly that the boy could hear it, and the 
cold was bitter. The boy looked through the 
window until he almost felt the chill himself, and 
then, to keep warm, held his head in his hands 
and fastened his eyes on the big, heavy-leaved 
book in front of him which bore the tinappealing 
title, Erskine's "Institutes." The type was fine, 
and the young student had to read each line a 
dozen times before he could understand it. Some- 
times his eyes would involuntarily close and he 
would doze a few moments, only to wake with a 
start to look quickly over at another desk near 
the fire where his father sat steadily v/riting, and 
then to a table in the corner where a very old 
man was always sorting papers. 

The winter light grew dim, so dim that the boy 
could no longer see to read. He closed the book 
with a bang. 

"Father." 

"Yes, Walter, lad?" The lawyer looked up 
from his writing, and smiled at the figure on the 
high stool. 

"I 'd best be going home, there 's no more light 
here to see by." 

"A good reason, Walter. Wrap yourself up 
warm, for the night is cold." 

Young Walter slid down from his seat, and 
stretched his arms and legs to cure the stiffness 
in them. He was a sturdy, well-built lad, with 
tousled yellow hair, frank eyes with a twinkle in 
them, and a mouth that was large and betokened 
humor. When he walked he limped, but he held 



himself so straight that when he was still no one 
would have noticed the deformity. 

Five minutes later the boy was plowing his 
way through the narrow streets of the Canon- 
gate, the old town part of Edinburgh that had as 
ancient a history of street brawls as the Paris 
kennels. Nobody who could help it was abroad, 
and Walter was glad when he reached the door 
of his father's house in George Square and could 
find shelter from the cutting wind. The Scotch 
evening meal was simple, soon over, and then 
came the time to sit before the blazing legs on the 
great open hearth and tell stories. The older peo- 
ple were busy at cards in another room, and Wal- 
ter, with a group" of boys of his own age who 
lived in the neighborhood and liked to be with the 
lame lad, had the fireside to themselves. In front 
of the fire young Walter was no longer the sleepy 
student of Erskine's "Institutes" ; his eyes shone 
as he told story after story of the Scotch border, 
half of them founded on old ballads or legends 
he knew by heart and half the product of his own 
eager imagination. -Whole poems, filled with bat- 
tles and hunts and knightly adventures he could 
recite from memory, and his eye for the color 
and trappings of history was so keen that the 
boys could see the very scenes before them. They 
sat in a circle about him, listening eagerly to 
story after story, forgetting everything but the 
boy's words, and showing their fondness and ad- 
miration for the romancer in each glance. Wal- 
ter was minstrel and prophet and historian to the 
.boys of the Canongate by the winter fire, as he 
was to be later to the whole nation of English- 
men. 

By the next day the snow had ceased falling, 
and the open squares of the city presented the 
finest mimic battle-fields that could be imagined. 
The boys of Edinburgh were divided into clans 
according to the part of the city in which they 
lived, and carried on constant warfare as long as 
winter lasted. Walter Scott and his brothers be- 



64 



HISTORIC BOYHOODS 



65 



longed to a clan that made George Square their 
headquarters, and their nearest and dearest ene- 
mies were the boys of the Crosscauseway, a 



next, the boys made the whole distance of the 
enemy's land without sight of an enemy. They 
came to the further boundary and raised a cheer 
of defiance, when suddenly a hail-storm of snow- 
balls struck them, and from a side street the 
youths of the Crosscauseway shot out. The in- 
vaders fired one round, then turned and fled 
before a fierce charge. Back the way they came 
the boys retreated, and after them came the 
enemy pelting them without mercy and with good 
aim. In the van of the pursuit ran a tall, fair- 
haired boy, who wore the bright green breeches 
of a tailor's clerk, who was famous for 
his prowess in these school-boy battles, and 




poorer section of the city 
that lay not very far 
distant. On the day the 
storm ceased Walter left 
his high stool and pon- 
derous book early and 

joined his friends in 
solid array in their square. 
While they waited for the enemy 
to come up from the side street, 
the boys built snow fortifications 
across the square and stocked 
them with ammunition sufficient to stand a 
siege. Still no enemy appeared, and, eager for 
a chance to try their aim, the boys of the 
square boldly left their own haunts and pro- 
ceeded down the Crosscauseway in search of 
the foe. The enemy's country lay through nar- 
row winding streets, and there was great need 
of care to avoid an ambuscade. Slipping from 
door to door, from one point of vantage to the 
Vol. XXXVI. -9. 



who, because of his clothes, had been given the 
picturesque nickname of "Green Breeks." 

Young Scott and his friends ran back into their 
square, but the enemy were close upon their heels. 



66 



HISTORIC BOYHOODS 



Green Breeks was now far in the lead of his 
forces, so far in the lead that he might have been 
cut off had not the pursued been panic-stricken. 
Over their own fortifications the boys fled and 
dropped behind them for safety. Their banner, 
a flag given them by a lady of the square, waved 
defiantly in Green Breeks's face. The tall boy 
leaped into the rampart and seized the standard 
when a blow from a stick brought him to the 
ground. He fell stunned, and the blood poured 
from a cut in his head. 

The watchman in George Square was used to 
the boys' battles, but not to such an ending to 
thetn. He hurried over to the fallen Green 
Breeks, and the boys of both armies melted si- 
lently away. A little later Green Breeks was in 
the hospital, his head bandaged, but otherwise 
little the worse for his mishap. 

A confectioner in the Crosscauseway acted as 
messenger between the boys of the causeway 
and the square, and to him Walter Scott and his 
brother went early the next morning and asked 
if he would take Green Breeks some money to 
pay for his wound and loss of time in the tailor's 
shop. Green Breeks in the hospital had been 
asked to tell the name of the one who had struck 
him, but had refused point-blank, and none of 
either party could be found to tell. When the 
wounded leader heard of Walter's offer he re- 
fused, on the ground that such accidents were apt 
to happen to any one in battle, and that he did not 
need the money. Walter sent another message, 
inquiring if Green Breeks's family were in need 
of anything he could supply, and received the an- 
swer that he lived with his aged grandmother 
who was very fond of taking snuff. Thereupon 
Walter presented the old woman with a pound of 
snuff, and as soon as Green Breeks was out of 
the hospital made him one of his friends. 

With the opening of spring Walter spent all 
his spare hours in his favorite pursuit, riding 
tlirouafh the countrv on a search for old legends 



or curious tales of the neighborhood. Scottish 
history was his never-ending delight; he knew 
every battle-field in the vicinity of Edinburgh, 
and could tell how the armies had come to meet 
and what was the result. Stories of sprites and 
goblins, of witches and magicians, were eagerly 
sought by him. Many an old woman was led to 
tell the lame boy with the eager eyes the tales 
she had heard as a school-girl, and was well re- 
paid by the boy's rapt attention. Hardly a stick or 
a stone, a stream or a hill in the Lowlands that 
had a history but Walter Scott learned it, and at 
the same time he learned to know the plain peo- 
ple, all their habits and customs, and all the little 
eccentricities that made up their characters. 

It was not long before the boy was writing the 
stories he had learned, and putting on paper the 
ballads he made up on winter evenings for his 
friends' entertainment. He stuck at the law 
faithfully, but his first love was that of story- 
telling, and while the one was always tedious to 
him, the other came to him as the great pleasure 
of his life. 

Fifteen years passed and England was reading 
eagerly the wonderful romances written by the 
"Wizard of the North." Scotland had always 
been a desolate barren country in the eyes of the 
rest of the world, its history unknown, its people 
cold and uninviting. Suddenly all that was 
changed : Scotland sprang into being as a land 
of romance, filled with poetry, a country full of 
glorious scenery, a people descended from a line 
of kings. Even the narrow streets of Edinburgh 
and the old Canongate itself became historic 
ground under the Wizard's spell, and the whole 
world was as eager to hear the stories and poems 
Scott had to tell about his country as his boy 
friends had been years before. Yet at the height 
of his fame Walter Scott was still in spirit the 
eager boy of the old city, finding romance every- 
where in the world about him because he looked 
for it with the eyes of youth. 



"NOVEMBER CHEER 



BY J. CLARKSON MILLER 



November's fields are bare and brown; 

November's skies are gray ; 
And bleak her winds which wail and roar 

Their weird, uncanny lay. 

But in November comes the time. 

Of grateful joy and cheer. 
When pumpkins ripe and turkeys fat 

Must pay a forfeit dear. 



The wood-fire crackles on the hearth ; 

It ma}' be cold outside. 
But, safe within,, we laugh and jest 

And cheerfully abide. 

Ah, June with all her meadows green 
May seem the best of all,— 

But for November's autumn cheer 
My heart will ever call. 










-n- ■^^^- .J^ 




DISOBEDIENCE 

'Wait, Kitty ; here "s soap and water, 
x\nd I must wash your face ; 

For the way you do it with your paws 
Is simply a disgrace !" 

But Kiffv did n't zvait ! 



I 



67 



FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK 







" ' GOOD MORNING, COW, COME AND TAKE A WALK WITH US. 

A LITTLE girl and a little boy started down the road together to take a walk. 
They met a dog. 

"Good morning, Dog," said the little girl. "Bow-wow!" answered the dog. 

"Come and take a walk with us, Dog," said the little boy. 

So they all went down the road together. 

Pretty soon they met a cat. 

" Good morning. Cat," said the little boy. " Miaouw! " answered the cat. 

" Come and take a walk with us, Cat," said the little girl. So they all went 
down the road together. 

Pretty soon they met a rooster. 

"Good morning. Rooster," said the little girl. "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" an- 
swered the rooster. 

" Come and take a walk with us, Rooster," said the little boy. 

So they all went down the road together. 

Pretty soon they met a duck. 

" Good morning. Duck," said the little boy. " Quack, quack! " answered the 
duck. 

"Come and take a walk with us. Duck," said the little girl. 



FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK 



69 




GOOD MORNING, DUCK, COME AND TAKE A WALK 
WITH US.' " 



So they all went down the road talking merrily with one another. 
Pretty soon they saw a little pinky-white pig with a funny little curly tail. 
" Good morning, Pig," said the little 
girl. "Grunt, grunt!" answered the 

pig- 

" Come and take a walk with us, 

Pig," said the little boy. 

So they all went down the road to- 
gether. 

Pretty soon they came to a pasture. 

In the pasture was a nice, old, red 
cow. 

" Good morning, Cow," said the lit- 
tle boy. "Moo, moo!" answered the 
cow. 

" Com.e and take a walk with us," 
said the little orirl. 

But the cow shook her head; she could n't open the pasture bars. 

" We will let down the bars for you, Cow," said the little boy and the little girl. 

So they let down the bars, and the dog, and the cat, and the rooster, and the 
duck, and the little white pig with the curly tail, and the little boy, and the little 
girl, all went in to see the cow. 

The little girl climbed on the cow's back, and the little boy climbed on the 
cow's back, and the dog jumped on the cow's back, and the cat jumped on the 
cow's neck, and the rooster flew up on the cow's head, and the little white pig 
with the curly tail, and the duck, walked behind the cow, and they all went down 
the road together just as happy as they could be. 

Pretty soon they met a carriage with 



two women m it. 

" Mercy on me 

" What 's this ! " 

"This is a fine, good show," answered 
the little girl. 

"Well, I should think it was!" said 
the two women. " It is a beautiful show." 
"Thank you," said the little boy. 
J \yy-^^Z-j:<^ ^ \Wy ^ J / " Good-by," said the two women. 

VCA'C/^, '^v. \\.\%iMXr^7Tfy>^, ^ "Good-by," said the little girl. 

So the cow, carrying the little boy, 
and the little girl, and the dog, and the 
cat, and the rooster, with the little white 
pig with the curly tail, and the duck, 
walking along behind, all went down the 
road together. 
Pretty soon they met a wagon with three men in it. 

" Well ! Well ! Well ! " said the three men. " Just look ! What 's all this ? " 
"This is a fine, good show," said the little boy, bowing very politely. 




said the two women. 



' GOOD MORNING, PIG, COME _((. 
AND TAKE A WALK ">' 

WITH US.' " 



■■■ -^^fcilr' 



70 



FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK 



[Nov., 



" Indeed it is !" said the three men. " It 's o-reat! " 

" Thank you," said the Httle boy, '' I am pleased that you like it." 

" Good-by," said the little girl. 

So the cow, carrying the little girl, and the litde boy, and the dog, and the cat, 
and the rooster, with the little white pig with the curly tail, and the duck, walk- 
ing behind, all went down the road too-ether. 




THE FINE, GOOD SHOW. 

Pretty soon they came to a store. The Store Man stood out in front of his store. 

" Good morning, Mr. Store Man," said the little bo)-, 'T have a little silver piece 
in my pocket." 

" Good morning! " said the Store Man. "What can I do for you?" 

"We want to buy some things for our Show," said the little boy. 

" I 'm olad of that ! " said the Store Man. 

So the little boy jumped down, and the little girl jumped down, and the dog 
jumped down, and the cat jumped down, and the rooster flew down. 

" We want to buy a little corn for our cow and our pig," said the little boy. 

"And we want to buy a little wheat for our rooster and our duck," said the 
little girl. 

" And we want to buy a little meat for our dog," said the little boy. 

"And we want to buy a little milk for our cat," said the little girl. 

" And we want to buy some great, long sticks of candy for us ! " said the little 
boy and the little girl together. "I hope you have some." 



FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK 



71 



The Store Man took the money and brought out all the things. 

The cow and the little white pig with the curly tail ate the corn ; the rooster 
and the duck ate the wheat ; the dog ate the meat, and the cat drank 
the milk, and the little girl and the little boy ate the great, 
long sticks of candy. 

" Good-by, Mr. Store Man," said the little 
girl. 

" Good-by, Mr. Store Man," said the litde 
boy. 

"Good-by, all of you," answered the Store 
Man. 

So the little girl, and the little boy, and 
the dog, and the cat, and the rooster, and 
the duck, and the little pig with the curly 
tail, all went back up the road again. 

Pretty soon they came to the pasture. 
The cow walked in. 

" Good-by, Cow and Dog and Cat and 
Rooster and Duck and Pio- i " shouted the 
little boy. 

" Goocl-by, Pig and Duck and Rooster 
and Cat and Dog and Cow ! " called the 
little girl. 

" Moo-moo ! " answered the cow. 

" Grunt-grunt ! " answered the pig. 

" Miaouw, miaouw ! " answered the cat. 

" Quack, quack ! " answered the duck. 

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" answered the 
rooster. " Bow-wow ! " answered the dosf. 

And the litde boy and the litde girl put up the bars and ran back home as fast 
as they could go. ^^^ 

'li^ Jessie Wrigki Whitcomb. 




THE STORE MAN BROUGHT OUT 
ALL THE THINGS." 




'THE LITTLE BOY AND THE LITTLE GIRL PUT UP THE BARS." 



NATURe 



ii^riiiiDirflif^ 



BY EDWARD F. BIGBUOV/ 




11 

' iiid 



•A-a^M*-^ 



CAT-TAILS WHOSE TINY SEED FLOAT AWAY SUSPENDED 

FROM A TUFT OF MARVELOUS HAIRS, EACH ONE OF 

WHICH IS ITSELF COMPOSED OF A BUNDLE 

OF HAIRS LOOSELY HELD TOGETHER. 

HAIRS AND FEATHERS 

Should you be questioned as to whether you are 
familiar with hairs and feathers you would prob- 
ably be indignant at the suggestion of your ig- 
norance concerning such common things. "Cer- 
tainly I know hairs and feathers. Don't we see 
them wdierever there are cats and dogs or birds 
or chickens? What is there unusual about such 
common things that you should ask? Of course, 
I know hairs and feathers! The idea!" 

I thought that I kncn^ hairs and feathers, too, 



-^^S:^^^^'^:^g22^:S5^r^ 



Sf/t/rO £M/IKOfU rO ^HOA' f/OOfiS 



FEATHER FROM WIXG OF CHICKEN, SHOWING 
ITS MINUTE STRUCTURE. 

once upon a time, until one day my pocket-lens 
opened my eyes to the existence of a world of 
strange and wonderful shapes among these com- 




mon things and gave quite a shock to my "com- 
fortable self-conceit." Indeed, is it not owing to 
this very so-called "commonness" that we usually 
disregard them as undeserving of notice? 

Hairs are found on almost everything that 
grows, and, if we may so call the fine fibers of as- 
bestos, they even invade the mineral world. 
From a piece of mineral asbestos quarried from 
the earth and looking like a stone with a satiny 
fracture, the silken fibers can be rubbed with the 
finger till the lump is worn away. 

Of course, there are hairs that are simply slen- 
der, tapering shafts. From this form arise modi- 
fications for special purposes, and their variety 
of form and structure is almost endless. 

It is in a deeper spirit of curiosity that I now 
search among these "common things," for one 
never knows what new and unexpected form the 
tiny glittering eye of the microscope will show 
him. A magic tube it is in very truth, through 
which one looks into a world of marvel at things 
that are so close, yet so exasperatingly beyond 
our reach however much we may desire to handle 
them. 

Perhaps the very last thing the accompanying 
pictures would suggest would be hairs. Such a 
collection of "spear heads" and "mouse tails" as 
we find in the drawing at the top of the second 
column of page J^i' would scarcely be taken to 
represent hairs. But such they are, neverthe- 
less. They are from the larva of a very common 
little beetle. He belongs to the tribe of Derines- 
tids and needs no introduction to those of j-ou 
who have tried to keep insect collections. The 
next one of these larvae you find, make him pay 
for his board and keep by putting a little balsam 
on a slide and dabbling him in it. You cannot 
make him stick, but enough of these "spear heads" 
and "mouse tails" will remain to give you perhaps 
the most interesting slide in your collection. 

These hairs are extremely minute, for if the 
"mouse tails" were laid side by side it would re- 
quire about seven hundred of them to reach one 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



73 



inch. With the barbs removed from the "spear 
heads," it would require about four thousand of 
them to reach the same distance. If placed end 
to end you would need more than a hundred of 
them. So you will easily see that you will at 
least needyour spectacles to look at these little hairs. 

Of course, these are rather tiny, but there are 
others that are more easily seen. The strange 
formation of the "fuzz" on the dried seed pod of 
the hollyhock can be easily seen with the ordinary 
pocket-lens. And what a maze of six-branched 
hairs we find all over it ! Queer things they are, 
too, with their long", slender arms spreading and 
sprawling in all directions from the common basal 
part (No. 4, bottom of this page). How like 
they are to a tiny octopus with his stumpy body 
and long, waving tentacles. 

The mullein leaf is the home of another col- 
ony of even stranger hairs. It is the presence of 
vast numbers of these spiny hairs growing close 
together and all interlaced that produces the 
characteristic thick, velvety leaves of this plant. 
Under your pocket-lens it looks like a field over- 
grown with brambles — and such thorns ! No. 2 
(illustration below) shows one of these hairs 
separated. This leaf is sometimes used by the 
country girls as a substitute for face powder when 
they wish a rosy complexion. Perhaps you can 
readily understand how a ruddy glow can be pro- 
duced by rubbing the cheeks with it. Just imagine 
rubbing your face with a miniature brier patch. 
Can you wonder at its effectiveness? 



Down in the bog the ragged cat-tails hold a 
store of hairs totally different — perhaps yet more 
wonderful in structure. No. 5 (below) shows 




HAIRS FROM LARVA OF DEK.MESTIU LEETLE. 

three of these greatly enlarged. Each hair of 
the cluster that tops the stem carrying the tiny 
seed is composed of slender filaments fastened to- 
gether at intervals along their length by tiny 
crossbars from filament to filament. What a won- 
derfully effective little balloon is this spreading 
cluster of hairs and how lightly it bears the tiny 
seed on its stem till finally one of the many thou- 
sands of them that leave a single head settles 
gently in some frozen bog whose thawing in the 




3SS 






I i f 




i ' Ii 



5 •7/ ^ V' 



^Oi ■■■•«- 



3 



NO. I. P.\PPUS HAIRS OF DANDELION SEED. NO. 2. PRICKLY H.\IR FROM DEAD MULLEIN LEAF. NO. 3. CROSS- 
SECTION OF PORCUPINE QUILL SHOWING BR.ACE RIBS TO GIVE STIFFNESS. NO. 4. HAIR FROM DRIED COVER- 
ING TO HOLLYHOCK SEED POD. NO. 5. PAPPUS HAIR FROM CAT-TAIL SEED. ALL GREATLY ENLARGED EXCEPT 
NO. 3, WHICH IS ONLY SLIGHTLY ENLARGED. 

Vol. XXXVI. -io-i I. 



74 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



[Nov., 



spring lets the little seed down into the congenial 
mud to become the pioneer of a new colony of 
cat-tails. 

A search along the windrows on the snow or in 
the little hollows where the chaff from autumn 
seeds collects may show you a dandelion seed with 
its pappus still adhering. The individual hairs of 
this are almost straight, but each has a number 



surface. The tip, also, is specially modified. 
Extending down opposite sides for about an inch 
are two cutting edges, looking as if the quill had 
been cast in a mold and just a little of the mate- 
rial had run out into the crack where the edges of 
the mold had not fitted exactly tight. 

The prize, however, for the most highly special- 
ized hair form seems to belong to the bird family. 




DRIED SEED PODS OF MULLEIN. 

On the dried leaves on the stalks below are the wonderfully 
branched hairs. 

of spines coming from it as if it had sprouted all 
along its length. These give more buoyancy to 
this tiny parachute with the little seed at the bot- 
tom of the stem, awaiting a suitable place to land. 
So far we have been among the Lilliputians, 
but at a bound we are in the land of Brobdingnag. 
In this porcupine quill we find a giant among the 
pigmies of the hair world. It is a hair specialized 
for the double purpose of bodily covering and de- 
fense, and so must be light and strong. It is about 
four thousand times the diameter of the shafts to 
the "spear heads." No. 3, bottom previous page, 
shows how it would appear if you cut one in two 
and looked at the end of it. The outside of the 
quill is composed of a substance like horn, and at 
first glance seems to be finely corrugated. This 
horny material extends inward in longitudinal 
ribs that vanish to nothing as they approach the 
center. The space between the ribs is filled with 
a very light, cellular substance that greatly re- 
sembles very fine soap-suds. When looking at the 
outside of the quill, it is the dark ribs that give 
the dark lines and the white material showing 
through the thinner parts that gives the white 
lines, producing the effect of a finely corrugated 



DRIED SEED PODS OF HOLLYHOCKS. 
On the outside of these are the six pronged hairs. 

We call it a feather. The scientists assure us that 
these are specially modified hairs but are so dif- 
ferent from all other modifications of a hair as to 
be deserving of a special name. 

Secure a feather somewhere — it will be much 
better than a picture — and you will see that it has 
a main stem or midrib. Along each side of this 
extends the thin part known as the vane. Look 
closely and you will see that this vane is com- 
posed of a number of tiny feathers called beards, 
fastened together throughout their whole length 
from where their bases join the midrib to their 
tips. You can easily separate one of these from 
the rest, when you will see how like a tiny feather 
it is with what seems a fine fuzziness along each 
edge. Clement B. Davis. 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



75 



■^?'P*S*P' 






v,,_ 




VENTRILOQUISM 
AMONG BIRDS 



w 

4^ 



There are many accom- .y 

plishments which the ^ 

lower animals seem to 

possess inherently, but which man can only gain 

through great application. 

It would take a long time for a boy to learn to 
make the sort of snare that a spider spins in- 
stinctively, and a colony of beavers can build a 
better dam than can a crowd of untrained men. 



SToMF,- ■ 




NECK AND HEAD OF WILD GUINEA-COCK. 

One of the human accomplishments hardest to 
learn is ventriloquism. It seems to be a gift 



IHE MOURNING-DOVE CALLING. 

which comes to but few of the human species ; 
yet among birds there are species every indi- 
vidual of which possess the power of making the 
voice seem to come from another spot than that 
in which the owner is located. 

There seems to be very little reason for this in 
most cases, but still there must be some, for na- 
ture is very economical in bestowing her gifts, 
and one may be sure that the possession of the 
power argues its usefulness. The first example 
of ventriloquism which will occur to most people 
is the voice of the mourning-dove. I suppose 
that every boy has been fooled by this bird. I 
know that I was, and was delighted when I dis- 
covered, after walking around a tree in the or- 
chard, that the voice did not come from far away 
but close at hand. 

When the mourning-dove utters his call he 
swells up air-sacs in his breast and neck, and 
these act as a sort of sounding-chamber which 
tends to hold and repress the sound, as a sound is 
made in a barrel. The emu has the same quality 
in his voice. It is as though these birds swallow 
their voices. 

The crow has some notes which are very ven- 
triloquial in quality. One note in particular is 
much like the bark of a distant dog, so much so 
in fact that I had trouble in convincing a friend 
that it was the voice of a crow about three hun- 
dred feet away and not that of a distant dog. 
The chickadee has a call-note of such a quality 
that its source is always uncertain until the bird 
is located. 

The oven-bird's "teacher! teacher!" always 
seems to come from several feet higher than 
where the bird is actually standing. 

The thrushes, at least the wood-thrush and the 
robin, have a peculiar habit of singing to them- 



76 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



[Nov., 



selves, as it were. Often, as I have been sitting 
in the woods, a wood-thrush has been singing, 
say, thirty feet away, which I supposed was at 
least two hundred yards away, until I discovered 
the bird. The whispered song is perfect so far 
as phrasing and notes are concerned, but in a 
very low key. 

I have heard a European thrush sing in a cage 
at the zoo when the notes could not be heard far- 
ther than fifteen feet. With my ear within three 
feet the song was as perfect and beautiful as in 
the ordinary way. 

Why these birds sing so, I have no idea. 

The peculiar wattles on the neck of a guinea- 
fowl had no significance to me until one day 
when I was making a careful drawing of a wild 
guinea-fowl. The wild guinea-cock has wattles 
as the domestic one, only exaggerated. I noticed 
that when the cock's beak was toward me his 
harsh call was louder. Then I noticed that when 
his beak was open the lower mandible being low- 
ered almost filled the space between the two side 
wattles, thus making a cup, and that the notes 
were thrown by a sort of megaphone, or just as 
a boy throws his voice by making a cup of his 
hands. , 

\ Walter King Stone. 

DID IT ESCAPE FROM SOME MENAGERIE? 

This dangerous-appearing serpent was found on 
the bank of the Mississippi River in December. 

The poor thing was quite rigid, possibly from 
cold — perhaps from old age. The attempt to re- 
vive it with a pail of milk was unsuccessful. In 




FEEDING MILK TO THE "SERPENT!" 

fact, it was found, upon close inspection, that it 
was just an old wild grape-vine stump ! 

G. W. Damon. 



ASTONISHING FRIENDSHIP OF A CAT 
AND A QUAIL 

The following letter is from one of our grown- 
up friends, but gives the most astonishing ac- 




A FAVOKITE POSITION. 

count of bird and cat friendship that has come 
to "Nature and Science." 

Bethlehem, Pa. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I got this bird last fall, a year ago, 
and had him in a cage for two weeks. When I left him out 
in the kitchen, he was very shy, and I soon could not find 




SOMETIMES THE QUAIL ST.\NUS ON THE CAT'S HEAD. 

him. I hunted, and found him under the stove with puss, 
and from that day they have been friends. He has not been 
in a cage since, and has had his liberty. He takes walks 
with " Woolie " as we call her, and the bird's name is Fritz. 
What you see in tliese photographs is what you can see 
every day. The bird was not forced to remain in that po- 
sition until his picture was taken. The affection the cat 
has for the bird was shown when she was penned on the 
porch for three days and two nights without one crumb to 
eat. It was by accident it happened. 

Another thing worth mentioning is the change of diet 
this bird has made. When I got him I fed him on rape, 
millet, wheat, and cracked corn ; now this bird has not 
eaten a seed nor grain of any kind for one year. His food 
consists of what we eat at the table ; he even eats pickles ; 
but what he likes best is sugar-cake and jelly-bread dipped 
in coffee, and he is as nice and healthy as ever. He is 
very fond of anything sweet, and some time ago he spilt a 
glass of syrup on himself. He was a sight and had to be 
washed, for which he held very quiet. He is very mis- 
chievous and will get in the dough if not watched. But 
"everything goes" — because it 's "Fritz." 
Yours truly, 

A. H. SCHIPPANG. 



igoS.] 



naturp: and science for young folks 



77 



GOOD WORK IN MAKING MACHINES camera and the results are shown herewith. The 

On a recent visit to the manual training-school construction is self-evident from the illustration. 

of Montclair, New York, I was shown some ex- Perhaps some of our readers will try to make 

cellent work by the boys in machine-making, some of the machines. If so, please report the 





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MRHV^IIll^V' 


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AN ELECTRIC MOTOR. 



A FAN (TO BE DRIVEN BY BELT). 



These not only showed skill on the part of the results. Also send photograph and description 
pupils but also good instruction and aid by the of any home-made apparatus you may have made. 







ANOTHER FORM OF ELECTRIC MOTOR. 



'POWER FORCE PUMI'. 



principal of the department, Mr. Cheshire Low- "Nature and Science" desires to receiv 
ton Boone. I set a few specimens before my tions regarding skill with the use of tools. 



e suffsres- 




A LATHE MADE OF WOOD. 



WHEEL AND INTERIOR OF WATER MOTOR. 



78 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



[Nov., 




^"BECAUSE WE 
J WANT TO KNOW" 



reflections from a spoon 

Front Royal, Va. 
Dear St. Nicholas : The other day I was looking in the 
bowl of a silver teaspoon. My reflection was upside down. 
And then I turned it over and the reflection was right side 
up. I could n't imagine why it was ; so I decided to " write 
to St. Nicholas about it." Will you please tell me why 
it is and oblige 

Your reader, 
Mary Wallace Buck (age 12). 

From the convex (bulging out) side of the 
bowl the rays of Hght go outward away from 
each other in the same direction. A ray from one 
end or top is always on that side or end. This 
does not change your apparent position. 

The rays from the hollow part of the bowl are 
brought together in a point called the focus. Here 
all rays cross. This crossing reverses everything 
from top to bottom and reverse, also from side to 
side. 

A camera lens thus reverses positions of ob- 
jects as seen on the ground glass. 

photographed ^vith^lion cubs 

The Bronx, New York City. 
Dear St. Nicholas: When asked to be photographed 
with the lion cubs, I thought it would be great fun playing 
with them. I have changed my mind since then ! 

Two keepers brought the cubs, put one on each side of 
me and told me to hold them tightly and no matter what 
happened to hold on, as they might run away. 




Photograph by courtesy of the New York Zoological Sociel\ . 

PHOTOGRAPHED WITH LION CUBS. 



I have played with Newfoundland dog puppies — they 
are nice and woolly ; but these lion cubs have hair that 
seems stiff, not soft at all. Then they have such a sly 
way when they look at you ; they curl up their noses, 
show their teeth, open and close their thick paws, then 
growl and spit. Talk about spitting! It sounds like cold 
water being poured on a red-hot stove. They were always 
ready to jump at each other in a rough and tumble play. 
In making a slap at the other, one of the cubs clawed me 
in the knee right through my skirts and made me cry. 
Then I was laughed at and told to look pleasant. 

I was n't really afraid, excepting when they looked 
straight at me with their big eyes glaring and showing 
their white teeth. Lion cubs may be nice pets, but they 
are a bit too rough for me. Thev won't stop when you 
tell them to and I would n't dare to slap them as their 
teeth are big and their claws very sharp. If they should 
draw blood there surely would be trouble, as they become 
savage when scenting blood. 

Yours with love, 

Marion L. Dedrich. 

This experience, while interesting, will not lead 
many of us to especially desire lion cubs for pets. 



curious hearing by telephone 

Buffalo, N. Y. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I have always wanted to know the 
explanation of this, to me a very strange thing. When 
you telephone, if the mouth-piece of the 'phone is put di- 
rectly over the heart, and the receiver, of course, to the ear, 
the person at the other end of the line can hear perfectly 
what you are saying, no matter in what direction you turn 
your head. 

Your constant reader, 

Ruth Clark. 

The heart, beyond the fact that it is the vital 
organ, has nothing to do with the reproduction of 
the human voice when the transmitter of a tele- 
phone is placed as described. If the transmitter 
is placed anywhere against the lungs of the per- 
son speaking, the person at 
the other end of the line can 
usually hear what is being 
said. 

The reason for this is that 
the vibrations of the vocal 
cords which produce the 
different fundamental tones 
are conveyed to every part 
of the lungs by the air in 
them, and the telephone 
transmitter being very sen- 
sitive will, when placed 
J 'J^^l against the lungs, be affected 

* — ^^^^ by these vibrations, which 

become more noticeable as 
the vocal cords are ap- 
proached.— The Southern 
New England Telephone 
Company, Edward H. 
EvERiT, Engineer. 



igoS.] 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



79 



A "WISE" INSECT MOTHER 

Water Witch Cttk, Highlands, N. J. 
Dear St. Nicholas: On the tips of the white birch I 
have found these bunches of fine silvery hairs, each with a 




FINE SILVERY HAIRS, EACH WITH A LITTLE 
BALL ON THE END." 

little ball on the end. At first, I thought they were a kind 
of fungus or possibly eggs, only I could not make out how 
an insect could lay them that way. But when I looked at 
them through the magnifying glass they looked like tiny 
cocoons, and later I found a lot of little insects on one of 
the twigs. Can you tell me what they are, or anything 
about them? I am sending you a few in a little box. 
Yours very truly, 
Alfred Machodo Whitman (age 13). 

On each of the two twigs you send are the 
stalked eggs of the lace-winged fly (from the 
beauty of its wings), which is also called the 
aphis-lion (because it eats aphids or "plant- 
lice"). 

The story of the wonderful egg-laying is well 
told by Professor Comstock. He says : 

The lace-wing is a prudent mother ; she knows that if 
she lays her eggs together on a leaf the first aphis-lion that 
hatches will eat for his first meal all his unhatchedbrothers 
and sisters. She guards against this fratricide by laying 
each egg on the top of a stiff stalk of hard silk about half 
an inch high. Groups of these eggs are very pretty, look- 
ing like a tiny forest of white stems bearing on their sum- 



mits round glistening fruit. When the first of the brood 
hatches, he scrambles down as best he can from his egg- 
perch to the surface of the leaf, and runs off, quite uncon- 
scious that tlie rest of his family are reposing in peace high 
above his head. 

Under the microscope, the eggs you send are 
split at the end, showing how the hungry larva 
escaped. 

A few days after your letter was received, a 




THE LACE-LIKE WING. 



neighbor brought to me a specimen of lace- 
winged fly that he called "a curious small grass- 
hopper with beautiful witigs." It is n't a grass- 
hopper, but does a little resemble one. I took an 




UNDER THE MICROSCOPE THE EGGS ARE 
SPLIT .\T THE END. 

enlarged photograph of one of its wings on one 
side. (It has two wings on each side.) 




How swiftly do the seasons pass, — 

The summer 's gone, the autumn 's here. 
The tread of the processioned year 

Now furrows through the fading grass. 

It is nine years ago since we made the first League an- 
nouncement. Four or five years later, when it seemed 
that we had been going on for a long time, and some of 
our members were beginning to drift away from us because 
they had passed the age limit and were almost grown up, 
the League editor prophesied that the day would soon 
come when the Table of Contents of many magazines 
would contain the names of former League memVjers, and 
that those names would be signed to pictures and poems 
and prose that would make the world think and take notice 
a little, not because those young writers and illustrators 
had been members of the League, but because the work 
itself would be so well worth while. 



BY PERCY ELUEMLEIN, AGE l6. (HONOR MEMBER.) 

Well, that prophecy has been fulfilled, now; it is being 
fulfilled all the time. There is hardly a month goes by 
that our foremost magazines do not contain something 
from old members of the League, and it is good work, 
too, the ripened effort of those boys and girls who studied 
and persevered and won badges in the St. Nicholas 
League. Only a little while ago, the League Album pub- 
lished the picture of one of its Honor Members, and the 
frontispiece of that same number of the magazine was a 
picture by that young man. It was just an accident that 
it happened so, but rather a pleasant accident when you 
come to think of it. Not long ago the League editor 
happened to read a charming sonnet in "The Century." 
He did not notice the name of the author until he had finished 
reading the lines, then he was gratified to find that the 
author of that fine sonnet was just one of those girls who 
during the League's earlier years used to write verses that 
captured first a silver and then a gold badge. And this 
sort of thing is happening all the time. The old League 
names look out from many pages — new names they are .to 
the general reader, but not to remain new, for the work that 
has won its way so far will win its way farther and find 
permanent place in the heart and memory of the multitude. 




'SOLITUDE AT POMPEII. 



BY DONALD MCICELVEY BLODGET, AGE I3. (GOLD BADGE.) 
80 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



81 




'landscape study." by ADOLl'H G. SCHNEIDER, AGE l6. (CASH PRIZE.) 



PRIZE WINNERS, COMPETITION No. 105 

In making the awards, contributors' ages are consid- 
ered. 

Verse. Gold badges, Margaret Ewing (age 15), 629 
McCallie Ave., Cliattanooga, Tenn., and Manuel G. 
Gichner (age 12), 15 16 Madison Ave., Baltimore, Md. 

Silver badges, Bibi Elizabeth Lacy (age 13), Ongar, 
Frederick Boulevard, St. Joseph, Mo. ; Richard T. Cox 
(age 9), Mulberry Hill, Lexington, Va., and Catherine 
Dunlop Mackenzie (age 14), Baddeck, N. S. 

Prose. Gold badges, Hanano Inagaki Sugimoto (age 
9), 5527 Hamilton Ave., College Hill, O., and Pauline 
Nichthauser (age 13), 243 E. 13th St., N. Y. 

Silver badges, Marjorie Trotter (age 13), 2136 Madison 
Ave., Toledo, O. ; Charles Arthur MacLaren Vining (age 
10), 532 Talbot St., London, Ont., and Elliot C. Bergen 
(age 14), 380 Hillside PL, S. Orange, N. J. 

Drawing. Cash prize, Adolph G. Schneider (age 16), 
17 Pleasant St., East Norwalk, Conn. 

Gold badges, Stanley C. Low (age 17), 69 New Rd., 
Brentford, Middlesex, Eng. , and Joan Spencer-Smith 
(age 17), 51 Palace St., Westminster, London, S. W., 
Eng. 

Silver badges. Alberta A. Heinmuller (aged 15), 241 
Sunnyside Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. ; Lina Fergusson (age 
12), Albuquerque, N. M., and Hester Thorn (age 11), 23 
Ramparts, Quebec, Can. 

Photography. Gold badges, Donald McKelvey Blodget 
(age 13), 379 Park PL, Bridgeport, Conn., and Alfred 
Pierce Allen (age 13), Mansion Plouse, Cottage 10, Fish- 
er's Island, N. Y. 

Silver badges, Katherine F. McKelvey (age 14), 1913 
S. Union Ave., Los Angeles, Cal. ; Muriel R. Good (age 
12), Atchison, Kan., and Elizabeth Washburn (age 14), 
2218 First Ave., So. Minneapolis, Minn. 

Wild Creature Photography. First prize, "Whippoor- 
will on Nest," by George Curtiss Job (age 15), Kent, 
Conn. Second prize, " Possum," by Cassius M. Clay, 
Jr. (age 13), Paris, Ky. Third prize, " Male and Female 
Herring Gulls," by Harold Keith (age 16), 184I Dayton 
Ave., Merriam Park, Minn. 

Puzzle-making. Gold badges, Alice Lowenhaupt (age 
14), 113 Fourth Ave., Roselle, N. J.; Nettie Kreinik 
(age 17), 159 West 84th St., New York City, and Evan- 
geline G. Coombes (age 14), 120 Second Ave., Newark, 
N. J. 

No silver badges for puzzle-making this month. 



Puzzle Answers. Gold badges, 
Stoddard P. Johnson (age 12), 
Yorktown Heights, N. Y., and 
Duncan Scarborough (age 12), 
Delmore Rd., Newton High- 
lands, Mass. 

Silver badges, Violet W. Hofi 
(age It), Rider, Md., and Helen 
L. Dawley (aged 16), 5657 Cab- 
anne Ave., St. Louis, Mo. 

THE VALE OF REST 

BY MA.\'UEI- G. GICHNER (AGE 12) 

Beyond the pallid hills of Death, 
In clouds of mourning dressed : 

Fanned by the gentle east wind's 
breath, 
There lies the Vale of Rest. 

And, where a blooming poppy sea 
Sheds fragrance sweet and deep, 

In rest that lasts eternally 
The souls of Mortals sleep. 



All earthly trials and triumphs cease 
Amid the dream-flowers fair; — 

A lovely Symphony of Peace 
Floats on the happy air. 

Though for the dead loved one we weep, 

God knoweth what is best; 
They sleep a long and dreamless sleep 

There — in the Vale of Rest. 




"tail-piece." by STANLEY C. LOW, ACE 17. (GOLD BADGE.) 

MY FAVORITE MEMORY 

BY HANANO INAGAKI SUGIMOTO (AGE 9) 

The time I like to think aljout best is one March day in 
my grandma's house in Japan. The third day of March is 
Doll Festival Day, and then all girls have a grand time. 
All the week before I had been planning what to have, 
because grandma said that I must order the servants just 
like a grown lady, so I did. I cooked the rice all alone, 
but grandma helped me to decide what to have. 

The day before, lematsu had got out the things from 
the go-down, and put up the steps on one side of the room. 
There were five of these steps. My aunt put a red cloth 



82 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Nov., 




"solitude.' 

all over them, and had a purple curtain, with the Mikado's 
crest on it, looped above. The dolls were fixed on the 
shelves. On the highest shelf was Tenshi Sama and Kogu 
Sama (the Emperor and the Empress), dressed in Jap- 
anese style. It would look funny to Americans, but it is 
really beautiful. My dolls are about one foot high, and 
are the same ones my ancestors always used. Right be- 
low Tenslii Sama Mere two bushes and doll musicians. 
The bushes mean very important things. 

The next step had many servants' dolls on it, and also O 
Boku Sama. Tliat is a funny wooden doll which is al- 
ways drowned in the river the next day. The two bottom 
shelves were filled with all the doll things I had— little 
tables and dishes, and furniture and kitchen things. 

The first thing in the morning, after I had on my new 
dress, my grandma sat down on a cushion beside me. I 
sat on the matting, because children never sit on a cushion 
when any one teaches them anything. My grandma told 
me all about the festival, and what it is for, and then I had 
visitors. Papa was in America, but all the 
rest of the family came. The first thing, 
they bowed to the dolls, and then I gave 
them cushions to sit on. I was hostess and 
served food out of the little dishes. Then 
my friends came, and we behaved like 
grown people and had a beautiful time. 

REST 

BY BIBI ELIZABETH LACY (AGE I3) 
{Silver Badge) 
Far in a Southern clime, I stand. 
Beneath a dome of azure sky; 
The breeze is blowing soft and high 
Across the level stretch of sand. 

The sun is setting in the West, 

The clouds are rainbows wondrous bright, 

The sea is bathed in golden light 

And everywhere is peace and rest. 



REST 

BY MARGARET EWING (AGE 15) 
{Gold Badge) 
The lonely greatness of the quiet hills. 

Which stand and watch the nations come and go, — 
While men are ground and tortured in the mills, — 
Communing with the silence and the snow. 

It is the rest of hearts, the rest of God, 

We are so little and so incomplete. 
And where the heroes and the poets trod. 

We cannot pause to listen for their feet. 

But these, the mountains, they were made before 
The woman woke the world to thought and pain ; 

And when the world is happy as of yore 

And sin has passed, the mountains will remain. 

And they have seen it all, and understand. 
The clouds of heaven lie upon their breast; 

And looking on the cities and the land. 

They whisper " We are God's, and God is rest." 

MY FAVORITE MEMORY 
BY pa'uline nichthauser (age 13) 
{Gold Badge) 
I close my eyes ; the mist before them clears away; pic- 
ture after picture passes before me. One there is that 
lingers longest with me. Blurred through my tears I see 
it. I do not know why I am crying; I should be happy 
at possessing such a dear memory. 

It is a simple but pleasant room that I see. A white- 
haired old man is sitting by the window. His face is 
wrinkled, but his blue eyes are bright and kind. To the 
boy and girl who are sitting with arms entwined at his 
feet, he is the dearest person in the world. He is talking 
to them in his soft, musical tones, but his hands are also 
busy. All kinds of wooden playthings he skilfully fash- 
ions ; among them, dishes for the brown-eyed little lass, 
and quaintly-carved animals for the boy. The girl looks 
up with loving eyes and sees how the last rays of the sun 
seem to linger on his snowy locks, and indeed, all around 
the room. But then, she thinks, it is always sunny where 
" Grospapa " is. 

" Yes, Victor," he is saying in his native German to her 
brother, "your father is now well on his way to America." 
His face saddens as he looks at the eager-eyed little lad. 
"Soon your father will send for his children and their 
mother, and then I shall be left, childless." 




iULirUDE." BY MURIEL R. GOOD, AGE 12. (SILVER BADGE.) 



•] 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



83 



"I will never leave you, 'Grospapa,'" says little 
Pauline, embracing him. 

"Nor I," sturdily declares Victor. 

"Ah! but you must go with your parents," the old 
man says, rising and looking out of the window. "See, 
is it not beautiful here? " he asks, his gaze lingering on 
the old mill, and then wandering over the valley to where 
the mountains rise, their snow-capped peaks sharply out- 
lined against the richly colored sunset sky. He turns 
away, and drawing his grandcliildren to him says : "When 
you are gone, I will have nature to console me, and she is 
great-hearted and good." 

He is sitting again, his hands holding tightly two soft, 
childish ones. The children are also silent, trying to 
imagine how life will seem without the mill, the forest, 
the mountains, and — without "Grospapa." Thus they 
remain until twilight gathers over them. Then the door 
opens and a brisk old lady, the " Grosmutter," calls them 
to supper. They all go out together, and the room is 
left alone in the darkness. 

I DON'T BOTHER ABOUT THE REST 

[ BY RICHARD T. COX (AGE 9) 

{Silver Badge) 
" Come on, Tom, we 've got to cut grass, 
Ma says we must do our best. 
We '11 only cut what 's around the front porch. 
Don't Ijother about the rest. 

"Come on, Tom, now, that 's-enough. 
Ma Ml think we 've done our best 
And give us a stick of peppermint. 
Don't bother about the rest." 

" Where 's the peppermint, now, Ma? " 

" Are you sure you did your best? 

Here 's half a stick of peppermint. 

Don't bother about the rest." 

"That little trick, it did n't work. 
Next time let 's do our best, 
And get a whole stick of peppermint 
And bother about the rest." 

MY FAVORITE MEMORY 

BY CHARLES ARTHUR MACLAREN VINING (AGE IO) 

(Silver Badge) 
When I am about to take my seat in the dentist's dreaded 
chair or undergo some other dreadful ordeal, there always 
flashes into my mind my favorite memory — my trip across 
the wide, wild sea from fair Canada to merry old England. 




' SOLITUDE. 



by katherin'e f. mckelvev, age i4. 
(silver badge.) 




SOLITUDE — THE LONE GRAVE ON FISHER';, IsI.AND. 
pierce ALLEN, AGE I3. (GOLD BADGE.) 



I remember as if it had happened but yesterday the 
dreadful crowd on the wharves, the sailors shouting, the 
trunks and boxes ; my fears lest we should miss the boat, 
and my joy when we were finally launched midstream on 
our trip to old John Bull's country. 

And then I remember the first whale we sighted ; the 
great ice-fields and all the wonderful sights of an ocean 
trip. And gradually the dentist and his instruments and 
all my surroundings fade away and I am once more on the 
great steamer talking to the sailors, watching the sea-gulls, 
and listening to the roar of the monstrous waves as they 
break against our gallant craft. 

Then I remember our first sight of the Irish Coast and 
our vaih endeavors to smell the peat burning. And then 
the finish — the landing of our ship in harbor! And then 
when it is all over and I am none the worse 
for the pain, the dentist (or whoever it is) 
calls me a brave lad, not knowing that all 
the time I was thinking of some of the 
brightest, happiest hours I ever spent in my 
life. 

VACATION'S REST 

by catherine dunlop mackenzie 

(age 14) 

(Silver Badge) 

A MIST still lies on the distant hills. 

And the dew is on the rose ; 
The song-birds carol their joyous trills, 
And the East with the sunrise glows 
As I pass down the shaded woodland path, 

\yhere the early morning air 
Is filled with the Linnsea's fragrant breath. 

That tells of its presence there. 
And the rippling brook that winds along 
Through gardens of Nature's art, 



84 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



Reechoes the clear and joyous song 
That rises from my heart. 

And hand in hand with fancy, 

With idle thoughts and dreams, 
Through woodland aisles I wander on 

By tranquil, murmuring streams. 
For the sweetest hours of vacation's rest, 

And placid Elysian ease, 
Are those I spend near Nature's breast. 

With flowers and birds and trees. 

MY FAVORITE MEMORY 

BY JIARJORIE TROTTER (AGE I3) 

{Silver Badge) 
My favorite memory is not hard to find as I 
look back over my brief period of existence. 

Until two years ago I lived the happiest 
of lives in a little Nova Scotia tovifn. My 
most precious memories are therefore con- 
nected with the "Land of Evangeline." 

Many times have I driven through the 
quaint village of Grandpre, past the old French 
lows, and the well, where, according to tradition, 




'NOVEMBER." BY HILDE VOK THIELMANN, AGE l6. (HONOR MEMBER.) 



wil- 
Aca- 




LANDSCAPE STl DV. ' BY LINA FEKGUSSON, 
(silver BADGE.) 

dian maids drew water. Often I have crossed the hot 
road over dykes 

"which the hands of the farmers raised with labor 
incessant." 

I have driven under shady elms beyond the dykes to where 
a clear view can be obtained of Minas basin's blue expanse. 
Scores of times I have looked on famous Blomidon, barely 
a mountain in height, but grand as the Alps in my sight, 
and so dear to me that I grow homesick to see it as I write 
in this city two thousand miles away. 

I distinctly remember how glorious it felt to pull off 
shoes and stockings for a run across the warm sand to the 
little cottage, with wild roses all about, there to wait the 
arrival of the less enthusiastic grownups. 

Once every twelve hours Minas basin empties into the 



Bay of Fundy leaving only dreary stretches of mud flats. 
But twelve hours later the basin is again full of sparkling 
water and unless it happens to be the middle of the night 
it is time for another swim. 

All day long we children played on the beach or in the 
woods back of the cottage, liut when evening came it al- 
ways found the whole family gathered on the beach to 
watch the magnificent sunset. You may seek the world 
over but if you want to find what I consider the most 
beautiful sky, you will go, not to Italy, but to the shore of 
Minas basin just as the sun is setting, 

I may never return to Nova Scotia, I may never watch 
another Acadian sunset, but though I live a hundred years 
and see many wonderful things, I know that tliose dear 
summers in the little cottage at Evangeline Beach will al- 
ways remain my favorite memory. 

REST 

BY AG.XES MACKENZIE MIALI, (AGE 16) 

{Honor Alember) 

I AM weary, weary, weary, and would gladly rest a space, 

For daylight wanes upon the hills and night comes on apace. 

The breeze has been his nightly rounds, and closed each 

dewy flower, 
So let me slumber quietly, if only for an hour. 

I am weary, weary, weary, and would fain lie down to sleep, 
For the shadows slowly lengthen, and the stars their vigils 

keep. 
So let me rest in peace, dear love, until the night is spent. 
Just leave me here in solitude and I shall be content. 



r™ 




'LANDSCAPE STUDY. BY ALBERTA A. HEIN.MILLEK, AGE 15. 

(SILVER BADGE.) 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



85 




W HU'I'UOKW ILL UN NKM. 1;Y GEORGE CURTISS JOB, AGE I5. 

(FIRST I-K12E, WILD CREATURE PHOTOGRAPHY.) 

THE TIME OF REST 

BY LOUISE K. PAINE (AGE I3) 

{Silver Badge IVituier) 
In evening when the work is done, 

The laborer, returning home. 
Hears gentle voices of the woods. 

So small beneath the starlit dome. 

He hears a single whippoorwill 
Call from its lonely hidden nest, 

And knows that in the forest dim 
The woodland folk prepare for rest. 

The fireflies with their fairy lights 
As lanterns serve him on his way; 

The leaves, stirred by the evening breeze, 
In dusky shadows gently sway. 

Then when a hoot-owl breaks the quiet, 
A longing stirs within his breast ; 

He hurries on his homeward way, 
That he, too, may prepare for rest. 

MY FAVORITE MEMORY 

BY ELLIOT C. BERGEN (AGE I4) 

{Sihej- Badge) 

Last summer, when I was in the Adirondack Mountains, 

I had an experience which shall always live in my memory 

as one of the pleasantest episodes of my boyhood. It was 




a long tramp on a rough trail through the woods, and fish- 
ing for trout in a small lake, right in a wild and unfre- 
quented spot among the mountains. 

Born and brought up in the heart of a big city, and hav- 
ing never been in touch with the real doings of nature, this 
trip meant much to me. Some boys, for whom such sport 
is nothing unusual, would think nothing at all of it, but in 
my case it is different, and I would not be happy at this 
moment had I not remembered the exact date of the expe- 
dition, and taken the weight and length of the largest trout 
which I caught. 

Early on the morning of July 3, having rowed three 
and a half miles to the head of the lake on whose shores I 
was staying, the guide, whom I will introduce as Oscar, 
and I, entered the inlet, and moved slowly through its tor- 
tuous passages. Here I saw a large beaver's lodge, and on 
the trail a partridge jumped in front of us, and ran on 
ahead for a short distance. 

When we reached the shores of the trout lake, and had 
finished a delightful meal thereon, we started for the fish- 
ing grounds. On the way an incident happened which I 




"male and female herring gulls." by HAROLD KEITH, AGE l6. 
(third prize, wild creature PHOTOGRAPHY.) 



'"I'OSSU.M." BY CASSIUS M. CLAY, JR., AGE I3. (SECOND PRIZE, 
WILD CREATURE PHOTOGRAPHY.) 

considered the crowning glory of the entire trip. Up at 
the head of the lake a small deer was feeding on the shore. 
As we approached slowly and noiselessly, I became excited. 
The deer, unsuspecting, kept on eating. We came nearer. 
Suddenly, up like a flash came the creature's beautiful head. 
Oscar, paddling in the stern, sat motionless. I did the 
same. The deer's eyes, large and round, stared in aston- 
ishment. One dainty forefoot was raised, and the body 
trembled with indecision. "What a shot! " thought the 
guide. "What a chance for a picture! " thought I. But 
alas ! I lacked a camera, and then, as the deer turned, and 
with one long, graceful leap, was gone, the chance went 
with it. Nothing, save the possession of the nine trout 
which we caught afterward, could cause the thrill of 
pleasure which ran through me at the sight of that deer. 

DAY'S REST-TIME 

BY E. VINCENT MII.LAY (AGE 16) 
{Honor jMeinber) 
How lovely is the night, how calm and still! 
Cool shadows lie upon each field and hill. 



86 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Nov., 




" HEADING. BY MARGARET FARNESWORTH, AGE 15. 

(HONOR MEMBER.) 

From which a fairy wind comes tripping light, 
Perching on bush and tree in airy fliglit. 
Across the brook and up the field it blows, 
And to my ear there conies, where'er it goes, 
A rustling sound as if each blade of grass, 
Held back a silken skirt to let it pass. 

This is the bedtime of the weary day ; 
Clouds wrap him warmly in a blanket gray; 
From out the dusk where creek and meadow 

lie, 
The frogs chirp out a sleepy lullaby ; 
A single star, new-kindled in the west, 
A flick'ring candle, lights the day to rest. 



O lovely night, sink deep into my heart ; — 
Lend me of thy tranquillity a part ; 
Of calmness give to me a kindly loan, 
Until I have more calmness of my own. 
And, weary day, O let thy candle-light, 
And let thy lullaby be mine to-night. 




Amy Robsart. They were very small and I don't see how she 
ever got through the doorway with the large skirts they wore 
in those days. 

We saw the room in the Kings Arms Inn where Sir 
Walter Scott wrote " Kenilworth." 

I had just read it, so I was doubly interested in seeing 
the castle and all it contained. 

Then we went back to our hotel and all agreed that we 
had had a very interesting afternoon. 

REST 

BY ALICE M. MAC RAE (AGE 1 5) 
{//o)wr Member') 

I STOOD upon the sea-wall 

And gazed across the sea, 
Where the fretted waves of Minas 

Beat a mournful melody ; 
While their rhythmic, restless turmoil 

Stamped itself upon my brain, 
Till my soul was filled with longing 

And my heart was full of pain. 



I stood upon the sea-beach 

By the waters wild and free, 
And I cried: "Oh Waves of Ocean, 

Sing a song of Rest to me ! " 
But the rolling breakers chanted, 

Dashing on the rocky shore, 
"Motion, motion, ceaseless motion 
Is our portion evermore." 



I 



FIRST SNOW. 
VAEGER, 



BY DOROTHY 
AGE 14. 



I stood in waving meadows 

Where the flowers smiled to me — 
Where through white-capped grassy bil- 
lows 
A .brook sang cheerily. 
Peace breathed in every winding, 
"Lo! here is Rest," I cried, 
' In the murmur of the brooklet 
And the daisies starry-eyed." 



ONE OF MY FAVORITE MEMORIES 

BY EMILY THOMAS (AGE I4) 

One of my favorite memories is a trip I made to Kenil- 
worth in England. Father, mother, my two sisters, and 
I were staying at Leamington, about six miles from Ken- 
ilworth. It was a lovely day. We had planned a trip to 
Kenilworth and right after lunch we started. Father, 
mother, and my sisters were to drive, but I rode a dear little 
pony named " Pilgrim." I had a lovely ride over, and on 
the way we saw the tree that marked the center of England. 

Kenilworth castle is in ruins. A guide took us over the 
castle and grounds ; he was very funny and told us about 
the place as if he were reciting a lesson in history. He 
would n't let us ask any questions but always said, " I 'm 
coming to that! I 'm coming to that! " 

First we saw the dungeon where Robert Bruce was kept 
prisoner, and another that was twenty-seven feet deep 
where Edward II was imprisoned, and still another where 
the Duchess of Gloucester was imprisoned for witchcraft. 

Then we saw the rooms used by Robert Dudley, Earl of 
Leicester, and the old banqueting-hall. The casjlle and 
grounds within the moat covered seven acres. Outside, 
the Earl had flooded one hundred and eleven acres of land ; 
but it is not flooded now. We saw a picture of how it is 
supposed to have been. There was an ivy three hundred 
years old on one of the walls. The Earl of Leicester en- 
tertained Queen Elizabeth there for nineteen days at the cost 
of a thousand pounds a day. We also saw the rooms used by 



MY FAVORITE MEMORY 

BY ELIZABETH GRIER ATHERTON (AGE 15) 

All the memories of my trip to Europe last summer are 
pleasant, but perhaps my favorite memories are those of a 
day in Switzerland, when we went up the Gornergrat. It 
was a " sparkling" day. The sky was a vivid blue, and 
the sun shown brilliantly on the snow-covered mountains. 
It was very cold, and we were glad to wrap steamer rugs 
around us in the little car. I was fortunate enough to 
have an edge seat, and as we climbed up and up the steep 



S^' 




^irjaecs© 





'TAIL-PIECE." BY HENRY THOMAS, AGE 16. 



19o8.] 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



87 



incline, I watched the little town of Zermatt grow smaller 
and smaller in the green valley below us. On either side 
of the car were banks of ice, and it looked very queer to 
see the dainty pink and blue alpine flowers growing so close 
to ice and snow. After winding slowly upward, for about 
an hour, we found ourselves in the midst of the great snow 
mountains, and then the car stopped and we got out to 
walk, to the summit of the mountain. I was glad to get 
out of the cramped car, and I started briskly up the hill. • 
The fresh, cold wind blew in my face, and the air was very 
exhilarating, but I found myself panting, and remembered 
that the air was thin in such a great altitude. However, 
it was not far to the summit, and very soon I had reached 
it. As I looked all around me at the white peaks, glitter- 
ing in the sunlight, my first thought was, " It looks like a 
postal card." Just then some people remarked, that on 
the glacier were two tiny black specks which were climbers, 
moving slowly toward the Matterhorn. First I looked at 
the men, and then at the great, cruel, rocky mountain sides, 
and wondered if those men had forgotten all the terrible 
tragedies which had occurred on the very mountain, toward 
which they were so steadfastly moving. 

The time sped away on the mountain-top, and soon we 
had to leave the enchanted place, but now, though I am 
very far away, I can still see the sun shining on the moun- 
tains, and feel the fresh wind in my face, and hear the 
faint tinkle of the goat bells almost as plainly as I saw and 
felt and heard them twelve months ago on the Gornergrat. 

REST 

BY BARBARA K. WEBBER (AGE I4) 
{Honor 31 ember) 
When slumb'ring under amber skies. 

The long fields darken into night, 
When off the earth the daylight dies. 

To linger only on the height, 
And the long river sighing rolls 

To mingle with the waiting sea. 
And soft the evening church bell tolls, 

With mellow note o'er hill and lea — 

There comes a rest to tired man. 

And peaceful night creeps on apace. 
And flower-scented breezes fan 

The wrinkles from old Nature's face. 
And silence seems to banish care 

And soothe awhile the keenest pain. 
While peace through all the fragrant air, 

Sheds healing balm like summer rain. 

MY FAVORITE MEMORY 

BY DOROTHY HAIGHT (AGE I2) 
My favorite memory is of my meeting with Captain Sally 
Johnson. I was staying at Fortress Monroe, Va. , when I 
saw her. 

One day I went with my father and mother for a little 
trip up Chesapeake Bay. The boat we went on was called 
the Mobjack. It stopped at several places, and at one of 
these Captain Sally Johnson came on board. She was a 
short, stout old lady, with lovely gray hair. Another lady 
was with her and — as I learned afterward — it was her niece. 

After I had been introduced to them, she (Miss John- 
son's niece) told us how her aunt was made a captain. 

It seems that during the Civil War, Jefferson Davis is- 
sued an order that all the wounded soldiers should be taken 
from the private hospitals of Richmond and put in the one 
large one that was supported by the Confederate govern- 
ment. 

Now Miss Sally Johnson of Richmond had used her pri- 
vate fortune and turned her residence into a hospital for 
southern soldiers. But after the order made by Jefferson 



Davis the officers came to have the soldiers removed from 
her house. Miss Johnson then went to President Davis 
and asked him if she could keep her hospital in spite of his 
order. 

Jefferson Davis made her a captain so she could keep her 
hospital, because if she was just Aliss .Sally Johnson she 
would not be a citizen of the government. But if she was 
Captain Sally Johnson she would be a citizen of the gov- 
ernment and it would be all right to keep the hospital. 

I think Captain Johnson's history is very unusual and I ■ 
love to think of it. 

HIS REST 

BY MARGARET HOUGHTELING (AGE I3) 
A LOWLY grave beneath a spreading tree, 

A small memorial to his finished life, 
A hidden spot, secluded from the eyes 

Of worldly soldiers in Life's weary strife. 

We do not sorrow for the dead. 

For all the air doth seem as blest 
By him who on his tombstone had inscribed 
"Mourn not; I do but rest." 

MY FAVORITE MEMOR Y 

BY ELIZABETH C. WALTON (AGE II) 

A MEMORY that often comes into my mind, and one that I 
like best to think about, is of an event which occurred 
when I was a very little girl. 

I can just remember hearing the folks at home talking 
about some public event which would take place that day, 
and I teased my mother to take me. 

I can remember the vast throng of people that crowded 
the streets, and during the years since then, I have often 
wondered what was the occasion of that crowd. Only a 
few months ago I learned that it was the funeral of Gen- 
eral Henry W. Lawton, who died while on duty in the 
Philippine Islands. 

We were standing on the pavement watching the mil- 
itary pageant, when a ripple of excitement seemed to pass 
through the crowd, and my mother told me the President's 
carriage was coming. And the memory I never will forget 
was the kindly face of much-loved President William 
McKinley. My mother held me high in her arms that I 
might see him. The carriage came slowly by, drawn by 
two beautiful horses. 

The President leaned far out of his vehicle, and with 
one hand raised his hat, and at the same time, waved his 
other hand to me, a little unknown child in my mother's 
arms. While his face still beamed with that love which 
he bore for all little children, his carriage passed on, and 
the immense crowd stood with uncovered head. 

This, then, is my favorite memory, and I wish that one 
and all of you could share its pleasure with me. 








'W^<c^?^^§ 




'heading." EV jMARY AURELLA JONES, AGE l6. (HONOR MEMBER.) 



88 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Nov., 




HEADING, 



HESTER THOM, AGE II. (SILVER BADGE.) 



NOONDAY REST 

BY GERTRUDE WEINACHT (AGE l6) 

The peace which reaches over all 
Rests on the sunny garden wall. 
It is high noon, the insects hum 
Drowsy sounds, all else is dumb, 
On the grass the checkered shade 
Darker grows, then seems to fade. 

A FAMOUS HOME 

BY ELIZABETH WHEELOCK (AGE 9) 

The home I mean does not surely look very famous. You 
would wonder if you were sent to 147 Hawthorne Street, 
Salem, Massachusetts. The only thing you could see 
would be an old, ramshackly house. You would say, " What 
is this?" The driver, if you should drive, would say, 
"Sir," or "Madam, that is Hawthorne's home." 

I suppose most of you have heard of Hawthorne's home 
called the Manse. But this has nothing to do with 
that. This is Hawthorne's birth-place. It looks very 
lowly for such a wonderful man, as it is in one of the now 
poor quarters of Salem. 

The paint is all oS and the windows broken. It is all 
deserted and looks like any old house. If it was not for 
a plate on the door, it probably would have served as a 
tenement. 

"THOUGHTS AT REST" 

BY ELIZABETH NORRIS KENDALL (AGE II) ^ 

In evening when the sun has set 

Down behind the hill, 
I watch the birds go to their nests 

And listen to the rill. 
I love to hear the owls hoot 

And hear the whippoorvvill. 
Oh! how I love the darkness, 

It 's so profound and still. 

" A FAMOUS HOME " 

BY MARY LEE TURNER (AGE I4) 

Just outside of Bardstown, Kentucky, there stands the old 
home of song and story, " jMy Old Kentucky Home." Tlie 
sun shines softly through the trees on the wide lawn and 
the winding driveway, and there is a clinging air of ancient 
hospitality about the place that makes " Federal Hill " 
ideal. The old house is of red brick, overgrown with 
clinging vines, and 'the narrow, quaint door with an old 
brass knocker, is riddled with bullets' holes. Inside the 



wide hall are many valuable things — one, an autograph of 
Washington's — still firm and clear. Then, there is the 
old desk where the song, " My Old Kentucky Home," was 
written, and some valuable old portraits in oil. In the 
dining-room is a table at which Lafayette dined, and a 
silver pitcher and goblets from which he drank. There 
are some plates, engraved with a coat-of-arms, also, and a 
table, at which Andrew Jackson played chess. The hall 
■ runs straight through the house, opening on the back- 
porch, and apart from the house are the kitchen and out- 
buildings. The house is not open to visitors, as it is oc- 
cupied, so I doubly enjoyed the pleasure of being in " My 
Old Kentucky Home " for a whole morning. 

REST 

BY ROSALIE SCHMUCKLER (AGE 12) 

A LITTLE room, 

A little bed, 
A little child, 

A sleepy head. 
A quivering mouth, 

A sin confessed, 
A little sigh 

And then comes 
Rest. 

REST . 

BY DOROTHY' FOSTER (AGE 12) 
A TINY pup, 

A basket small, 
A cushion soft, 

Some milk, that 's all. 

A FAMOUS HOME 

BY K.ATIIRYxN MADDOCK (AGE 1 5) 

The home of a great man often presents very strikingly 
many of his characteristics. This is particularly true of 
the Hermitage, a picturesque homestead not far from 
Nashville, Tennessee, where Andrew Jackson lived be- 
tween intervals of public service, from 1804 till his death 
in 1837. 

Near to the main house is a small log building last used 
as a negro cabin. This rude dwelling was formerly a two- 
story block house and was Jackson's home for fifteen 
years during which he was perfectly contented with his 
simple way of living. From this home the fiery Tennesseean 
was called to the Indian wars and then to New Orleans, 
finally returning to the same fireplace. The cabin is now 
a most interesting place, its ebony-hued rafters stained by 
the smoke of many years, its monstrous chimney half 
falling to pieces, and the generally dilapidated state of the 
whole structure, all remind the visitor of its great age. 

The General would have been very happy to have con- 
tinued his life in that rough hut, but he resolved that Mrs. 
Jackson should have a more commodious home, so in 1819 
he built the house generally known as the Hermitage, a 
low, rambling affair overshadowed by beautiful evergreens. 
With its tall, colonial columns and with that air of generous 
hospitality which permeates the place, the Hermitage seems 
a typical Southern mansion. In Jackson's day its doors 
were always open to guests and everyone was made 
welcome. The Hermitage estate was so large that only a 
part of it could be tilled, but this part was very carefully 
cultivated, for Jackson was a vigilant and successful farmer. 
Another source of pleasure to him was in his horses, of 
which he was very proud. Not far from the house, there 
stands a tiny Presbyterian church, another evidence of his 
affection towards his wife, for whom it was built. 



I908.] 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



89 



Thus we find nearly every one of Andrew Jack- 
son's distinctive qualities expressed in his home. 
There of course remains nothing to illustrate his 
violent hatred for enemies and his open-hearted 
hospitality toward friends, but his simple tastes, 
his great love for his wife, his thoroughness and 
energy, are all evidenced at the Hermitage. 

This home is of added interest at present, for 
in his last message to Congress, our President 
recommended that an appropriation be made to 
aid the Association which cares for it. 

LEAGUE LETTERS 

Syracuse, N. Y. 
Dear St. Nicholas League: To-day I am sending you 
my last contribution, for to-morrow is my eighteenth birth- 
day. 

Before I leave your roll, however, I want to thank you 
for all the happy days which you have given me, and for 
the stimulus that you have given me to work, for, before I 
began to compete to you, I never so much as thought of 
drawing. As soon as I became interested in you, however, 
I was at once seized with a wild desire to draw, and began to scribble 
on everything I could find — school-books included ! 

Now I would not give up my " Art ", as I fondly call it, for anything 
in the world, and, when I have graduated this spring, 1 am going to 
enter the Art Course at the University here. 

I have always, in a way, looked forward to my eighteenth birthday, 
but, somehow, when I look at my "last attempt " and think over all 
the happy times I have had working over its predecessors, and of all 
those exciting moments of breathless suspense when the St. Nicholas 
first came, and I hurriedly turned the pages to see what my fate might 
be, I forget any small joy which might have existed in the thought of 
"really being eighteen^'' and only wish that I could begin all over again, 
and, perhaps, do better. 

Farewell, dear League ! May many others find in your pages the 
joys which I have found. 

I remain your old friend and reader still. 

Rachel Bullev. 

Boston, Mass. 
Dear St. Nicholas League: I thought the following incident might 
happen to amuse you and possibly some of your readers also. Here it 
is — 

The other day a gentleman who lives near our house took his small 
son out for a walk in the Park. "Papa" asked the boy at last, "can't 
I please have a ride on a donkey ? " " Yes, but I don't see any donkey 
for you to ride, Willie," objected his fond parent. "Oh, nevermind, 
Pa," answered Willie, obliging, "You will do almost as well as one 
yourself, I guess." Don't you think that is pretty good? 
Your interested reader, 

Susan J. Appleton. 

My Dear Saint Nick: 

How can I ever thank you 

For all the pleasure you have given me ? 
There *s not another reader of your pages 

Who watches for you half so eagerly. 
I 'm quite a grown-up child, but I shall never 

Grow old enough to read you through and through, 
And if I live to be a white-haired Grandma, 

I '11 tell the children what I think of you. 
Well, dear old friend, 1 met you in the Subway, 

A careless reader left you on the seat. — 
But pardon him, for I am sure he 's sorry. 

At least I 'm certain that he missed a treat. 
I wish you joy and gladness all your lifetime, 

And may you live an endless century. 
And if perchance there 's none to keep you going. 

Just send their resignations in to me. 
Well! dear old saint, I have to close my letter; 

Forever in success may you abide, 
And please accept this token of devotion, 

From your most thankful, 

Edna Vander Heide (age i6). 

Fargo, N. D. 
Dear St. Nicholas : When after working for a certain thing over 
three years, one unexpectedly attains that aim, the English language 
seems barren of words to express one's joy and thankfulness. That is 
just the way I feel about my gold badge. 1 worked for it such a seem- 
ingly endless time that the badge itself seems unreal, like something in 
a dream whenever I look at it. And yet it is for those three long years 
of steady, persistent work, for which I am most grateful. 1 thank you 
very, very much for the beautiful badge and for the great honor you 
have given me, but I thank you infinitely more for the gold badge those 
three years have wielded into my life, the gold badge of patience and 
perseverance. 

Your loving Honor Met/iber, 

Beulah Elizabeth Amidon. 

Vol. XXXVI. -12. 




landscape study. by MARSHALL WILLIAMSON, AGE II. 



New York, Feb. io, 1908. 
Dear St. Nicholas : This is the first time I have written to you, al- 
though it is the second year we have taken you. 

I was born, and have lived until two years ago in Cairo, Egypt, and, 
although it may seem queer to some who have never been abroad, we 
went out to the Pyramids nearly every week in the winter. My brother 
and I liked to climb upon the Sphinx's back, but we could not get very- 
far as there is a large crack in the middle. 

When I first came over here to school, I think I spoiled a good many 
imaginary views of " romantic " Cairo when I told people that it is quite 
a modern city, except for the queer dress and strings of camels and 
donkeys. We have, however, never been up the Nile, or seen the 
Pyramids by moonlight ; but we have seen a good bit of Europe, as it 
is too hot to stay at home in the summer. 

The winter before last the Prince and Princess of Wales were out 
home, and over a hundred Bedouins took part in some sports given for 
them. The Bedouins did some clever things such as riding their horses 
full tilt with their heads in the saddle and feet in the air. They also 
made their horses dance to the music of tom-toms. 

Ever since I have read "St. Nick," I have liked it ever so much, 
I like "Harry's Island," "Three Years Behind the Guns," the 
League and Letter-Box best of all. 

Hoping this is not too long, I am ever your interested reader, 

Ellen C. Papazian (age 14). 

Mv Dear St. Nicholas League: I am sending to you to-day my 
verses for the September competition and I am so sorry to remember 
that I have but three more. Does every one get old so dreadfully fast ? 

Your subject appealed to me this month, for I have several relatives 
including my father who are members of the Life Saving Service to 
which I have reference in the poem. This small band extends along 
the coast of the United States and guards its coast from the ravages of 
the storm. They maintain a constant watch along the shore and at the 
appearance of a distressed vessel launch their frail boats and, pitting 
their strength against the force of the waves, give aid to the distressed 
seamen. When the sea is so high that launching a boat from the shore 
is impossible, the beach apparatus is used and the sailors are brought 
from the vessel by means of a " breeches-buoy," which is drawn shore- 
ward over a cable that has been shot across the vessel from the shore 
and fastened to the mast of the distressed vessel. 

On our part of the coast storms are numerous and a rescue of this 
kind is a frequent occurrence. 

I thank you so much for the encouragement you have given me in my 
endeavors to win that coveted cash prize. 

But whether I succeed or not I shalleverremember with gratitude the 
pleasure and benefit I have derived from your interesting work. Long 
life to you, my dear St. Nicholas League, and best wishes from your 
devoted League member, Mary Yeula Wescott (age 17). 

Dear St. Nicholas : Every place I go, and we bring up the 
subject of magazines, the St. Nicholas is most always spoken of first. 
Mother took you when she was a little girl. She saved all of the old 
copies. Sarah Crewe was one of the continued stories and I think it is 
fine, but the stories you have now are the nicest of all. 

My home is in Kentucky, but I go to school m Nashville. We have a 
fine basket ball team. 

Mother sends us the St. Nicholas every month, and if she did n't 
every thing would seem a blank. 

My uncle has a gasoline yacht, and we go out swimming in the 
summer. 

Father owns a coal mine, and once I went inside on a little car ; it 
was awfully dark ; I put a jug on the track to see the car break it. I 
thought it very funny. 

I hope there will be some more to " Pinkey Perkins," and wish there 
would be a sequel to " Tom, Dick, and Harriet." I 'm glad " Harry " 
likes Roy better than any of the other boys. 

Your interested reader, 

Martha Newman. 



/. 



90 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Nov., 




Bertha N. Wilcox 
Margaret T. Babcock 
Isabel Randolph 
Bertha E. Widmeyer 
Allison Winslow 
Jean Dallett 
Bertha A. Daniel 
Frances Bernlce 

Bronner 
Kathryn Maddock 
Thoda S. Cockroft 
Rose Norton 
Emma D. Miller 
Elsie Nathan 
Sarah C. McCarthy 
Edith Harvey 



"heading." by JOAN SPENCEK-S.MITH, AGE 17. {GOLD BADGE.) 

ROLL OF THE RECKLESS 

A LIST of those whose contributions were not properly prepared, and 
could not be entered for the competition; 

NOT INDORSED. Edwina Spear, Kingsetta Carson, Edgar 
Campbell, Jr., Rosanna Thorndike, Esther Curtis, Joseph Wither- 
spoon, Jeanette E. Sholes, Frances P. Eldred, Isabel P. Bunting, 
Helen Macklin, Elizabeth King, and Ragna von Encke. 

NO AGE. Brewster S. Beach, Mildred E. Beckwith, Edgar Camp- 
bell, Lucy S. Quarrier, Hazel Bowman, Gwendolyn Steel, James 
Tilghaman, James A. Farfield, and Charles D. Whidden. 

WRONG SUBJECT. Mary F. Ritson, Frank Morse, Lois Grace 
Smith, Morris W. Abbott, Margaret Betz, Sumner Wright, Eva Mat- 
thews Sanford, Winifred Marsh, Morris Alexander, Edith H. Gllling- 
ham, Irene Huston, Lavinia Jones, Katharine C. Smith, Frank L. 
Chance, Lucille Ruth Peterson, Calvin W. Moore, Seguine Johnson, 
and Warren T. Kent. 

Welcome League letters have been received from Anna Chase, 
Dorothy Wooster, Adelaide Harriet Clark, Gertrude L. Amory, Flor- 
ence Dawson, Lorraine Voorhees, Louisa Keasbey, Frank Phillips, 
Cath ine Patton, Elizabeth E. Moore, F'lorence West, Norman H. 
Read, Eleanor von der Heide, Adelaide Field, Isabel Foster, Jennie 
Hunt, John H. Hill, Percy Bluemlein, Lois Donovan, Mildred E. Ed- 
wards, Beryl Hatton Madgetson, Edna Astruck, James Lee, Rachel 
Fox, Eva Matthews Sandford, Elizabeth M, Ruggles, H. Rosenfeld, 
Irma H. Hill, Lydia Gibson, Gordon W. Allport, Frances H. Coutts, 
Bernard Bronstein, Eleanor Mead, Dorothy G. Foster, Frances Watts, 
Caroline C. Johnson, Mary W. Cowling, Mary F. Ritson. 

THE ROLL OF HONOR 

No. I. A list of those whose work would ha\*e been used had sjjace 
permitted. 

No. 2. A list of those whose work entitles them to encouragement. 



VERSE, I 

Lois Treadwell 
Susan Warren Wilbur 
Dorothy Ramsey 
Constance Weaver 
Matie Jones 
Carol Thompson 
Jean Gray Allen 
Eleanor May Kellogg 
Ruth S. Coleman 
Primrose Lawrence 
Violet Dodgson 
Ruth A. Dittman 
Emmeline Bradshaw 
Aileen Hyland 
Lois Donovan 
Irma Adelia Miller 
Dorothea Derby 
B. H. Fairbanks 
Ruth Adams 
Doris F. Alman 
Elizabeth C. Beal 
Dorothy Ward 
Olave Dodgson 
Marion Reeder 



Frances Arthur 
Katharine Holway 
Frances Hyland 
Walter Edward Watkin 
Edna von der Heide 
Marjorie S. Harrington 
Agnes Lee Bryant 
Jessie Morris 
Dorothy Douglas 
Rose Burnham 
Hester L. TurnbuU 
Marguerite Weed 
Janet Jacobi 
Lucie Clifton Jones 
Elizabeth Swift 

Billings 
Dagmar Leggott 
Earl Reed Silvers 
Thusa Madella Ream 
Bessie Neville 
Ruth Harvey Reboul 
Ruth Cutler 
Dorothy A. Sewell 
Bessie B. Styron 
Marie Armstrong 
Otto H. Freund 



Elizabeth Toof 
Frances Elizabeth 

Simpson 
Louise Hompe 
Doris Huestis 
Angela Richmond 
Elizabeth Crawford 
Lucile Watson 
Lucy E. Fancher 
Eleanor M. Sickles 
Lillie G. Menary 
Summerfield Baldwin, 

III 
Eleanor Johnson 
Ruth Livingston 
Ruth Pennington 
Magel Wilder 

VERSE, 2 

Helen Virginia Frey 
Dorothy Barnes Loye 
Jeanie Reid 
Louise G. Ballot 
Kathleen C. Heard 
Mary Lee Turner 



Florence W. Collier 
Germaine Lymott 
Elsa Weber 
Ida F. Parfitt 
Faye F. Holum 
Isabel S. Allen 
Adelaide D. Bunker 
Rosamond Leslie 

Crawford 
Mary Clarkson Allen 
Adelaide Beebe 
Dorothy Carpenter 

Julia Ruth E. Lamson Tillie Hoffman 
Martha Noll Alma R. Liechty 

Deborah Sugarman Mary A. Ward 

Isabel Burr Case Wilda M. Carpenter 



Elizabeth Garland 
Katharine Brown 
Etelinda Dearing Frey 
Margaret Ritsher 
Helen Sewell Heyl 
Alma J. Herzfeld 
Louise M. Anawalt 
Mary Zoercher 
Ella Adams 
Dorothy Watkins 
Caroline Graham 
Sexton 



Eleanor von der Heide Katherine F. Kershner Edna Anderson 



Kenneth A. Brownell 
Agnes Gray 
Esther L. King 
Edith M. Sprague 
Jeannette Munro 
Lucile Shepard 
Harry Gerber 
Eleanor Farwood 
Delia Arnstein 
Enid Carroll 
Eleanor J. Tevis 
Alice K. P. Price 
Helen G. Bu^ns 
IMargaret Earl 
Helen Katherine 

Smith 
Marion Graves 



Anna Esther Botsford Estella Miller 

Mary S. Bristell Dorothy Thompson 

Ruth Metz Helen McLanaham 

Elizabeth McGlathery Adelaide A. Shields 



Babs Davids 
Marion J. Benedict 
Marion Spencer 
Lowry A. Biggers 
Catharine M. 
Wellington 
Lorraine Voorhees 
Jennie Hazlett 
Dorothy Buell 
Joseph P. Keene 
Elizabeth James 
IMargaret F. Grant 
Dorothea U. Whitney 



Phillis J. Walsh 
Horace S. Dawson 
Adelaide H. Clark 
Dora Iddings 
Phyllis Bryson 
Marian W. Walsh 

DRAWINGS, I 

Helen Keen 
Mildred Andrus 
Virginia Hardin 
Helen E. Fernald 



William J. Phillips, 3rd Morris Gilbert Bishop Mary Woods 



Helen F. Thomas Jean Russell 

Florence E. Dawson Ruth Moore Moi^ris 
Margaret L. Crelghton Noreta L. Metz 



Ethel L. Blood 
John Dessart 
Blanche Willis 
Rosalie B. Geer 
Rebecca O. Wyse 
Ahce Hall Kerr 
Katherine Jo. Klein 
Margaret A. Smith 
Marian Bowman 
Grace W. Wingate 
Julia S. Clopton 
Mary Botsford 
Elizabeth Woolsey 

Stryker 
Gushing Williams 
Jean Deming 
Ruth Lewinson 
Virginia Frances Rice 
Esther Helfrich 
Marjorie D. Cole 



Elizabeth Uiff 
Margaret Comstock 
Ida C. Kline 
Helen Page 
Grace Merritt 
Bruce T. Simonds 
Hart Irvine 
Ruth E. Abel 
Ruby Treva Scott 
Eleanor L. Hopkin 
Ralph Perry 
Elizabeth Maclay 
Doris R. Evans 
Effie Jardan 

PROSE, 2 

Margaret Elizabeth 

Allen 
Margaret Underhlll 



HildegradeDIechmann Agnes M. Blodgett 



Bertha E. Walker 
Sheelah S. Wood 
Dorothy T. Holllster 
Christine Fleisher 
Gladys Kalllwoda 
Anna Bullen 
Julia Williamson Hall 
William Murtagh 
Bertha Tilton 
Alice R. Cranch 
Jessie Bogen 
Ann Elllcott 
Eleanor D. Mason 
McLean Young 
Marjorie White 
Beth MacDuffie 



Mary Villeponteaux 

Lee 
Evelyn Kent 
Fred D. Harrington 



Frida Tillman 
Theresa Jones 
Louise A. Bateman 
Benjamin Y. Morrison 
Eugene L. Walter 
Florence Walker 
Frances Hale Burt 
Lucia Comlns 
Dorothy Ochtman 
E. Allena Champlin 
Olive ^L Simpson 
Helen Underwood 
Nellie Hagan 
Hugo Greenbaum 
Sylvia Allen 
IVIargaret A. Concree 
Dorothy R^eber 
Katherine Dulcebella 

Barbour 
Maurice C. Johnson 
Dorothy D. Leal 
Ernest Townsend 
Dorothy E. Downing 
La Verne G. Abell 
Aimee Truan 
Marjorie Cluett 
Helen May Baker 
Louise Dantzebecher 



Marie J osephine Hess Beatrice Pateman 

Dorothy MacPherson Wm . C. Appleton 

Catherine H. Straker Jack Hopkins 
Heather P. Baxter 



J"essie May Furness 
Beatrice Frye 
Annette Howe 

Carpenter 
Margaret W. Shaw 
Helen Fitzjames 

Searight 
Florence Mickey 



Constance S. Winslow Frances Ingham 



Alma Mabrey 
Dorothy_ B. Wells 
Patty Richards 
Clemewell Hinchllff 
Winifred Ewing 
Alice Phelps Rider 
Dorothy Willett 

PROSE, I 

Myron Day 
Helen Noyes 
Albert A. Green 
Bertram Frances 

Wilcox 
Elsie Chapin 
Hazel Wyeth 
Beetha Pitcairn 
Katherine Donovan 
Kathleen Burrell 



DRAWINGS, 2 

Elizabeth Jasvis Winn 
Mary Sherwood 

Wright 
Anne Geyer 
Marguerite Wyatt 
Dorothy Wood 

Johnson 
Marshall B. Cutler 
Helen M. Gates 
Grace Atkin 
Priscllla Flagg 
Hugh Albert Cameron 
Marion D. Freeman 
Anna K. Stimson 
Nannie R. Hull 
Alice O. Smith 
Virginia S. Brown 
Herschel M. Colbert 
Margaret Osborne 
Josephine Schoomaker Dorothy Wallace 
Grace S. Nies Dorothy H. Cheesman 

Eugenia Hebert Towle Martha A. Oathout 
Helen Santmyer Frank McCaughey, Jr< 

Frances Elizabeth A. Augusta Davis 

Huston William B. Baker 

Kennard Weddell Sol Slomka 

Mary Broughton Sybil Emerson 



]\Iildred Seitz 
Ruth Alden Adams 
Mary H. Oliver 
Dorothy Joline 
Gertrude Hearn 
Helen Tingley 
Dorothy Treat 
Margery Livingston 
Katharine P. English 
Eleanor Steward 

Cooper 
J. Elmer Kenslll 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



91 



Margaret Lantz 

Daniell 
Lois Mildred McClain 
Helen Parfitt 
M. Udell SiU 
Lucy O. Bruggerhof 
Gladys Nolan 
Dorothy Wormser 
Margaret E. Kelsey 
Helen H. Ames 
Esther Iris Hull 
Verna Keays 
Harry P. Smith 
''Frances McDearmon 
Mary Home 
Viviani Bowdoln 
Maria Stockton 

Bullitt 
Gladys Schnweker 
Marjorie A. Johnson 
Otto Schaefer 
Charlotta Heubeck 
William E. Fay 
Marian Seip 
Harold Parr 
G. K. Hamlin 
Helen D. Flood 
Euterpe Papadophlo 
Thomas Hovenden 
Ruth Streatfield 
Dorothy Hompe 
John Clement Park 
Marie Hall Wilson 
Felicity Askew 
Helen Louise Walker 
George Lindberg 
Rosa Cook 
Henry C. Banks 
Helen Silverstein 
Emily Brettner 
Emma Preston 
Dorothy Rubottom 
Elizabeth F. Abrams 
Henry Ide Eager 
James Raiford Wood 
Virgil Wells 
Joseph Auslandef 
Alison M. Kingsbury 
Gwendolyn 

Frothingham 
Harold H. Hertel 
Elizabeth R. Biddle 
Edna Crane 
Reginald Marsh 
Lucile M. Smyth 
Helen K. McHary 



PHOTOGRAPHS, i 

Sidney Sherrill 

Alderman 
Elise F. Stern 
Ruth Shaw Kennedy 
William Perrin 
Vernon Bettin 
Helen B. Nichols 
Marjorie E. Chase 
BettineS. Paddock 
Elizabeth Lewis 
Pauline B. Flach 
Elsie Cromwell 

Comstock 
Doris Kent 

Ellen Windom Warren 
Eleanor White 
Esther Fox Tucker 
Constance Ayer 
Celestine C. Waldron 
Stella M. Sondheim 
Charles B. Hone 
Clyde Dick 
Margaret Janney 
Cornelia Needles 

Walker 
Adile F. Browning 

PHOTOGRAPHS, 2 

Eunice L. Hone 
John J. McCutcheon 
Marjorie Hale 
Gustav Zeese 
Grace Bristed 
Alice Mason 
Lucia E. Halstead 
Charles H. Baker, Jr. 
Adeline Pepper 
Frances B. Godwin 
Roy Phillips 
Fred Dormann 
Susan J. Applegate 
Judith S. Finch 
Oakes I. Ames 
William Howard Smith 
Helen K. Ehrman 
Jessie Atwood 
Winona Montgomery 
Elsie Moore 
Enada Avery Griswold 
Mary Comstock 
Marion Sarah Stouder 
Lucy Rose Morgenthan 
Berthae Moore 



Paul H. Means 
Ruby M. Palmer 
Katharine Ketcham 
Blanche L. Hirsh 
Lois L. Holway 
Katharine Tighe 
Edith Ames Winter 
Louise Cottrell 
Dorothy E. Billings 
Margaretta Myers 
Miriam A. Story 
Harriet Foster 
Agnes Alexander 
Walter C. Mackey 
Janie S. Ball 
Herbert W. Ross 
Mary E. Maccracken 
Eleanor Parker 
Constance H. Smith 
Mary L. Hunter 
Dorothy L. 

Dockstader 
Helen T. McDonald 
M. May Reynolds 
Helen D. Misch 
Dorothy Flurd 
Elizabeth F. 

Farrington 

PUZZLES, I 

Walter O. Strickland 
E. Adelaide Hahn 
Elizabeth Beale Berry 
Caroline C. Johnson 
Muriel Oakes 
Winifred Parker 
Amy Bradish Johnson 
Christine Fleisher 
Mary D. Bailey 
Summerfield Baldwin, 

Hester Gunning 
Duncan Scarborough 
Gracia Blackman 
Harrison F. Lewis 
Dorothy Struss 
Marjorie Catlin 
Sadie Malkovsky 

PUZZLES, 2 

Benjamin Evans 
Robert S. Keator 
Clifford Furst 
Winnie Foster 



NEW CHAPTERS 

No. 1061. Annie Keene, President; Louise Butler, Secretary and 
Treasurer ; five members. 

No. 1062. Gertrude Powers, President; IVIargaret Eyre, Secretary. 

No. 1063. Nathan Imberger, President; Sam Visotsky, Vice- 
President; Julius Mendelson, Secretary; twelve members. 

No. T064. Alice Gwaltney, ' President ; Genevieve Murray, Vice- 
President; Katharine Stone, Secretary; Mabel Nelson, Treasurer; 
nineteen members. 

No. 1065. ** Resolved to Win Chapter." Adellna Longaker, Presi- 
dent ; Alice Kilbourne, Secretary ; si.x members. 

No. 1066. "The Ramaibi Club." Adelaide Beebe, President; 
Belle Hicks ; seven members. 

No. 1067. "Sacajawea Chapter." Margaret B. Mackenzie, Presi- 
dent: Ellen Low Mills, Secretary; ten members. 

No. 1068. "Clan Carth." Hazel Campbell, President; Martha 
Andrews, Secretary ; five members. 



PRIZE COMPETITION No. 109 

The St. Nicholas League awards gold and silver badges 
each month for the best original -potms, stories, drawings, 
photographs, puzzles, and puzzle answers. Also cash 
prizes of five dollars each to gold-badge winners who shall 
again win first place. "Wild Animal and Bird Photo- 
graph" prize-winners winning another prize will not re- 
ceive a second gold badge. 

Competition No. 109 will close Nov. 10 (for foreign 
members Nov. 15). Prize announcements to be made and 
selected contributions to be published in St. Nicholas for 
March. 

Verse. To contain not more than twenty-four lines. 
Title to contain the word " Wind." 

• Prose. Story or article of not more tli.in four hundred 
words. "A Windstorm Adventure." 

Photograph. Any size, interior or exterior, mounted or 
unmounted; no blue prints or negatives. Subject, " IVIy 
School." 

Drawing. India ink, very black writing-ink, or wash. 
Two subjects, "The Old Valentine," or "Old Valen- 
tines," and a March (1909) Heading or Tail-piece. 
Drawings to reproduce well should be larger than they are 
intended to appear, but League drawings should not be 
made on paper or card larger than nine by thirteen inches. 

Puzzle. Any sort, but must be accompanied by the an- 
swer in full, and must be indorsed. 

Puzzle Answers. Best, neatest, and most complete set 
of answers to puzzles in this issue of St. Nicholas. 
Must be indorsed and must be addressed as shown on the 
first page of the "Riddle-box." 

Wild Animal or Bird Photograph. To encourage the 
pursuing of game with a camera instead of a gun. For 
the best photograph of a wild animal or bird taken in its 
7iatiiral home: First Prize, five dollars and League gold 
badge. Second Prize, three dollars and League gold badge. 
Tliird Prize, League gold badge. Fourth Prize, League 
silver badge. 

RULES 

Any reader of St. Nicholas, whether a subscriber or not, 
is entitled to League membership, and a League badge and 
leaflet, which will be sent free. No League member over 
eighteen years old may enter the competitions. 

Every contribution, of whatever kind, 7inist bear the 
name, age, and address of the sender, and be indorsed as 
"original" by parent, teacher, or guardian, zvho must be 
convinced beyond doubt that the contribution is not copied, 
but wholly the work and idea of the sender. If prose, the 
number of words should also be added. These things 
must not be on a separate sheet, but on the contribution 
itself ^i a manuscript, on the upper margin ; if a picture, 
on the margin or back. Write or draw on one side of the 
paper only. A contributor may send but one contribution a 
month — not one of each kind, but one only. 

Address : The St. Nicholas League, 

Union Square, New York. 





-i 



^THEMnEND 




"tail-piece." by HESTER MARGETSON, AGE I7. (HONOR MEMBER.) 



THE LETTER-BOX 



Many of the older boys and girls who read St. Nicholas 
are familiar with the well-known "Chronicles of Sir John 
Froissart," and will therefore appreciate the clever verses 
by Mr. Arthur Upson on page 44 of this number, entitled 
" The Three Queens at Melun." 

In one of the editions of these famous Chronicles there 
is a chapter which bears the heading: 

OF THE THRE QUENES AND THE NAVEROISE THAT WERE 
BESIGED BY THE DUKE OF NORMANDY IN MELUNE. 

and it begins as follows : 

After the yeldyng up of Saint Valery, as ye have herde 
before, the duke of Normandy assembled togyder three 
thousande speares, and departed from Parys, and wente 
and layed siege before Melune, on the ryver of Sayne, the 
which was kept by the Naveroyse : within the same towne 
there were three quenes, the first, Quene Jane, aunt to the 
Kyng of Naver, somtyme wyfe to Kyng Charles of France ; 
the seconde, Quene Blanch, somtyme wyfe to Kynge 
Philyppe of Fraunce, and sister to the Kynge of Naverr ; 
the thirde the Quene of Naver, sister to the duke of Nor- 
mandy, the which duke was not at the siege hymself, but 
he did sende thither the lorde Morell of Fyennes, Consta- 
ble of Fraunce, the erle of Saynt Pol, the lorde Arnold 
Dandreghen, Marshall of France, the lorde Arnold of 
Coucy, the bysshop of Troyes, the lorde Broquart of Fene- 
strages, * * * and others, to the number of thre 
thousande speares, who besieged Melune round about. 
And they brought from Parys many engyns and springalles, 
the whiche, night and day, did cast into the fortress, and 
also they made dyvers sore assaults. The Naveroyse with- 
in were sore abasshed, and specially the thre quenes, who 
would gladly that the siege had been raised, they cared not 
howe. 

Our author has not held closely, however, to Sir John 
Froissart's account of the ending of the siege, but has 
given the verses an amusing turn, by making the Captains 
of Melun, Lord John Pippes and Carbenaux, open the gates 
to the besiegers, and welcome them into the town. It would 
bewell if all sieges could end as pleasantly, and though the 
poet may dififer with the historian, our readers, we are sure, 
will enjoy the rhythm and the humor of Mr. Upson's verses, 
and the clever illustrations by Mr. Birch. 



Dong Shang, China. 
Dear St. Nicholas: We have been taking you for nearly 
three years now and can truly say we enjoy you more than 
any other magazine we get way off in China, where the 
St. Nicholas takes a whole month to reach us. 

We live about one hundred miles from Shanghai. Last 
winter there was a mob here, on account of the heavy 
taxes. The rice crop was bad, and the taxes heavy, so the 
poor country people rose in insurrection in several parts 
of this province. The worst riot was here, though. The 
country people around here gathered a mob, broke in the 
city gates at night, attacked the yatnen (where the official 
stays), demolished it, broke into stores, battered down 
doors, plundered shops, and last of all burnt our mission 
school, mistaking it for the government school next door, 
which is supported by their taxes, and the buildings just 
behind it where our native Christians stay. They barely 
escaped with but the clothes on their backs, and their 
homes were burnt to the ground. It was a fearful night 
for everybody, but especially for us foreigners, for a few 



might cry "Kill the foreign devils" and it would be over 
with us. We were just outside the city, in a little boat. 
It was a bitter cold nigiit and there were twelve of us: 
five missionaries, four boys, and three babies. It was 
hard on the poor Christians and school-boys. The mob dis- 
persed just after they had lighted the buildings, which they 
did by breaking up chairs and benches, piling them up, 
and pouring tins of oil over them, and then lighting it. 
The buildings are being rebuilt now. 

Good-by, your devoted China reader, 

Francis W. Price (age 13). 



P. n. , Ala. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I hardly know how to tell you 
how much I do like you and enjoy your monthly visits. 

The League I am very fond of. There are such inter- 
esting letters from different parts of our United States and 
from the other parts of the world. I have n't taken you 
long and have n't read many copies, but I love you all 
the same. 

I am an only child, and get rather lonely sometimes, but 
now I have you to read, and look forward with so much 
joy for the night_that you will come. 
From 

Vernon S. Hybart, 



Franklin, Ohio. 
Dear St. Nicholas: I want to tell you a story about our 
dog Don. lie is a bird dog, and we think he is very beau- 
tiful. 

One Easter Sunday out of a variety of eggs my brother 
and I liked a particular egg. My mother was away. The 
next day she came home ; while we were telling her about 
this egg Don ran up-stairs and soon came down with the 
egg tucked avi^ay in his mouth. He must understand 
language. How do you suppose he could get that particu- 
lar egg out of the basket of eggs and bring it down three 
flights of stairs without breaking it? He would not let 
any one have it but mama. 

Did he understand what we said or was it an accident? 
It is a true story. 

C. Elizabeth Lyman (age 10). 



Florence, Italy. 
Dear St. Nicholas: I have taken you for four years, 
but strange to say, though I have grown so fond of you, 
this is the first time I write to you. I enjoy you so much, 
and each month await your arrival with the utmost im- 
patience. Even my mother looks forward to your coming, 
and always reads you with great pleasure. 

When I once get you, I am perfectly happy, and finish 
reading you all too soon, for I then remember with regret 
that I have another long month to wait for you to come 
again ! 

No doubt many of the readers of St. Nicholas have 
been to Florence, or have heard about it in some way. Al- 
though an American, I have been living in this beautiful 
city of art and flowers almost eleven years. 

Believe me ever your sincere friend and admirer, 
Evelyn Russell Burgess (age 15). 



Denver, Colo. 
Dear St. Nicholas : This year will be the second year I 
have taken you, and I enjoy you very much. 

I want to tell you that my mother took you when she 
was a little girl, and she also learned to read from you. 



92 



THE LETTER-BOX 



93 



I am named after a little St. Nicholas girl. The little 
St. Nicholas girl whom I was named after is now grown 
up. 

This is the first time I have written you, but I enjoy the 
" Letter-Box " very much. 

Your devoted reader, 

DoKOiHY Sachs (age 12). 



W , III. 

Dear St. Nicholas: I just began to take you this year, 
and have never written to you before. My papa gave you 
to me for Christmas. I like you very much. My mama 
took you when she was a little girl. I like " Harry's 
Island" very much, and I am so sorry that "The Gentle 
Interference of liab " is finished, but I suppose there will 
be another good one to take its place. I have a friend 
who has sent in drawings to you, and has won both the 
silver and the gold badges, although /have never tried to 
do anything. I think you are the best magazine ever 
printed for children. 

Your interested reader, 

Marion Matheson (age 11). 



B , Cal. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I have been greatly interested in 
the " Letter-Box, " and reading the nice letters of other 
readers, I thought I would like to write to you also. 

I love to study animals, especially reptiles. I have a 
dog, two cats, and a rabbit, which are all very tame. Cali- 
fornia, one of the cats, and Roy, my dog, are great friends 
and will play like two kittens, rolling over and over. 

A friend and I have a collection of reptiles. We have 
frogs, toads, salamanders, lizards, and snakes. We only 
have one snake now, as the other died a few days ago. 
They are harmless and the one that died was very tame. A 
great many of your readers would think these queer pets, 
but they are very interesting and we love to watch them. 
We keep them (except the lizards) in a large tub of water. 
We feed the snakes and salamanders polywogs and worms, 
and the frogs insects. 

We are having vacation now, so we have plenty of time 
to hunt for something new to add to our collection. 

I like your stories very much, especially Mr. Barbour's. 
I have eight of his books and have read a good many 
otliers. 

This is getting very long so I must close. 

I remain your interested reader, 

Violet R. Claxton. 



Plainfield, N. J. 
Dear St. Nicholas: Perhaps you would like to know 
about the time our canary bird very near hung himself. 

We used to keep a tarleton cover around his cage to 
keep the seeds from falling to the floor. 

The bird used to pick at it and one day when the maid 
was cleaning in the dining-room, she noticed that he was 
making an unusual lot of noise. She called mother and 
mother found that in picking at the cover the bird had un- 
raveled a string which had gotten twisted around his neck. 

Mother freed him and he seemed very glad and so were 
we for he is a very pretty littlesinger. 

I have taken the St. Nicholas two years now, and like 
it very much. My little brother (five years old) always 
watches out for "The Happychaps," and the stories 
" For Very Little Folk." 

Yours sincerely, 
LuciLE EwART (age 13). 



that "Tom, Dick, Roy, and Harriet " are the nicest folks I 
ever read about. 

The "Gentle Interference of Bab " was lovely and her 
pokey little nose was always just right in poking. 

I am thirteen years old ; am in the eighth grade, live on 
a farm in northern New York, and am enjoying my life as 
every healthy country girl should. 

I don't care to live in the cities at all, but I would like 
to be nearer one than I am. 

My only pets are two old, old cats. I have one little 
calf that I exercise nearly every day, but I don't pet her. 

I think it would be helpful as well as pleasant. 
With best wishes, 

Blanche Willis. 



M , Quebec 

Dear St. Nicholas: I have taken you for nearly two 
years and like you very much. We have had such a 
lovely summer. In June, my sister and I went to visit 
our grandmother, who lives in Hamilton. We had a lovely 
time there. Our grandfather rented a little pony for us. 
He was a trick pony, and would give his foot to shake 
hands. He loved sugar and apples. We have a pond, 
and ten goldfish in it. 

From your devoted reader, 

Amy Southam (age 11). 



N. II , Conn. 

Dear St. Nicholas: I have taken you since 1904, and I 
would n't stop for the world. My father buys you for me 
every month. 

I have been a member for a long time of the League, 
but never have won a prize. But I shall fight and fight, 
and conquer in the end. 

All this past year I have been at boarding-school on the 
Hudson. I think it is beautiful around there. 

I used to have two dogs, but Fritz, the little fox-terrier, 
died and I felt very badly. We still have Rab. 

Good-by, dear St. Nicholas, for now, but believe me to 
always be 

Your devoted reader, 

Catherine Guion. 



B , N. Y. 

Dear St. Nicholas: This is a true story of my mother 
and a mouse. We were eating supper and we saw some- 
thing come rolling over the floor, and we saw it was a tiny 
mouse. It looked just like a hard, rubber ball. Mother 
held out her skirt and the little mouse ran in the skirt. 
We took a cigar box and covered it with glass and made 
little holes all around the box so mousie could breathe. 
We put cotton to lie on, and some cheese and water to eat 
and drink in the box. Next morning mousie was not in 
his box and as I was looking in I saw a little black point 
come slowly out of the cotton, and out came mousie tail 
first. 

Your interested reader, 

Margaret Bartlett (age 11). 



Dear St. Nicholas Friends : I have taken the magazine 
for seven months and I am going to keep right on. I think 



L. St. C , Vt. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I am a girl thirteen years old. I 
have taken you for two years, and enjoy you very much. 
My home is in Granville, but I come to Lake St. Cathrine 
for the summer nearly every year. Lake St. Cathrine is 
a lovely little lake, situated in Vermont. It is about eight 
miles long and a mile wide. We have a cottage here 
called Camp Glendale. We have quite a large launch on 



94 



THE LETTER-BOX 



the lake called the "Water-wagon," and owned by a 
man named Brown. Papa also has a motor-boat called 
the "Mistake," which is a very queer name, I think. 
Your loving reader, 

Marjora Cole. 



A , Ga. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I have just been taking your maga- 
zine since January, but my brother used to take it and I 
like it ever so much. 

I have just been to Mexico. We went to Puebla. I 
went to a fort there called Fort Morelos, built by the Span- 
ish three hundred years ago ; it is surrounded by a moat 
and a high wall. All around there are little places where 
they looked out to see if the enemy was coming. We went 
inside and up tiny little steps just large enough for one 
person to go up at a time. On top there was a little hole, 
the entrance to a secret passage. When we were leaving 
the fort, the Mexican woman came out and gave us some 
red geraniums, 

I am your little reader, 

Harriet Haynes (age 12). 



Brown's Island, Thousand Islands, N. Y. 
Dear St. Nicholas : On the little island in the St. Law- 
rence on which we are camping there are two copies of the 
new St. Nicholas. One belongs to my two little cousins, 
to whom I have just been reading, and the other is my 
own. 

Last Decoration Day I was one of a large crowd who 
stood waiting outside of Grant's tomb in the pouring rain 
while Secretary Taft spoke to those inside. When the 
secretary came down the steps a newspaper reporter took a 
couple of snap-shots of him from under my umbrella and 
then I hurried down to the carriage to speak to him when 
he got there, and Secretary Taft came splashing down the 
steps, and when I said, "How do you do. Secretary!" he 
touched liis hat and said, " How do you do, my dear!" and 
I did n't blame him for the smile that went with it when I 
saw my drenched appearance in the mirror when I got 
home. I hope that the friends of St. Nicholas will al- 
ways be as true to it as they are now. I enjoy reading the 
letters telling of the good times of other St. Nicholas 
friends. 

Your loving reader, 

Margaret A. McIntosh. 



K , N. Y. 

Dear St. Nicholas: This is the first time I have ever 
written to you. but I thought you might like to hear about 
Kinderhook, where I spend my summers, because it is quite 
interesting. 

It is a little country village between Albany and Hudson, 
and about five miles back from the Hudson River. 

Martin Van Buren, one of our presidents, was born and 
is buried here, and his home, " Linden-wald," is about a 
mile away. Irving's story, "The Legend of Sleepy 
Hollow " was written here. 

The house opposite our house was a fort in the time 
when the Indians were here. 

All around here are very pretty walks, and if you walk on 
a hill you get fine views of the Catskill Mountains. 
Your loving reader, 

Margaret Hussey. 



Pinar del Rio, Cuba. 
My dear St. Nicholas : I read a letter in the July 
number of St. Nicholas about Newport, andso I thought 
I would tell you about Cuba. When we first came here 
we lived in Havana. It is quite large compared with the 
other towns. 



Vedado is the most beautiful of the Havana suburbs. 

The houses are all painted light blue, pale pink, yellow, 
and pale green. There is a law in Havana not allowing 
them to paint their houses white on account of the glare. 
Morro Castle and Cabanas are very picturesque old forts. 
I have been through them both. In Morro Castle there is 
a place that our guide pointed out as the " Shark Slide," 
where the cruel Spaniards often put men who were con- 
demned to die, down through the slide, to be eaten by the 
sharks. 

There is a place in the Laurel Ditch in Cabaiias, where 
the soldiers who were condemned to die were shot by the 
Spaniards, and the walls are full of bullet holes. 

The Cubans have placed a beautiful bronze tablet there 
in memory of their soldiers who were shot. When we 
first came down here, we lived in La Tuerza, and had the 
wing where De Soto brought his young bride, and where 
she waited so many long months for him. 

Right opposite it is a chapel, built under the tree where 
Columbus said his first mass. 

My brother and I have two darling white ponies and a 
parrot. 

Every month I can hardly wait for you to come, and you 
are the greatest pleasure I have during the month. 

Mama took you when she was a little girl, and she 
loved you then as I do now. Then grandpapa was sta- 
tioned way out in the frontier, just as my papa is stationed 
way out here. 

This is my first letter to you, and I hope it is not too 
long. 

From your loving reader, 
Margaret Elizabeth Read (age 12). 



New York City, N. Y. 
Dear St. Nicholas: This is not my first letter to you, 
but I have never seen one printed. I enjoy reading the 
letter-box very much, and especially the foreign letters, as 
I myself was born and lived in Egypt until I was twelve. 
There are, of course, a great many English there. 

I saw the Prince and Princess "of Wales twice; once 
quite close by. The second time was at a tournament 
given especially for them, and to which hundreds of Bed- 
ouins had been invited to perform their wonderful feats of 
horsemanship, and their sword dances. Another thing we 
very much looked forward to, was the annual review of the 
troops by the Khedive and Commander-in-Chief. In fact, 
we were so used to seeing soldiers every time we went out, 
that it seemed strange not to see the scarlet uniforms about 
New York. 

Just one last word to tell you how much I like St. 
Nicholas, and look forward to it each month. My fa- 
vorite stories are Mr. Barbour's and ".The Chronicles of a 
Diddy-box " ; I was also very interested in the submarine 
articles. 

Thanking you very much for the pleasure you have given 
me, I remain, 

Your faithful reader, 

Ellen C. Papazian. 



Other letters which lack of space prevents our printing 
have been received from Napier Edwards, Margaret AI- 
cock, Harriet Palmer, Gladys E. Miller, Harriet Haynes, 
Olga de Cousino, Bushnell Cheney, Catharyn Flotte, Isa- 
bella Rea, Grace Steinberger, Dorothy Hensile, Helen 
Argur, Georgiana Brown, Carol Curtis, Elsie C. Cunning- 
ham, Emma MyraTillotson, Margaret Adams, Ethel Rose 
Van Steenberg, Louise Porter, Frances Grinnan, Florence 
Boycott, Amy Stone, Lynette Gubben, Edith M. Cul- 
bertson, Rachael Cornell, Penelope Harding. 




ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE OCTOBER NUMBER 



4- Leaning. 5. Handsel. 6. Indoxyl. 7. Direful. 8. Relieve. 9, 
Applaud. 10. Harness. 11. Initial. 12. Aalborg. 

Double Acrostic. Initials, October; finals, Weather. Cross-words: 
I. Orator. 2. Cattle. 3. Though. 4. Occult. 5. Banana. 6. Entree. 

7. Review. 

Double Beheadings. William Howard Taft. i. Co-ward. 2. 
Cl-inch. 3. Sp-lash. 4. Al-lure. 5. Sp-ices. 6. St-able. 7. Hu-mane. 

8. Be-have. 9. Fl-oral. 10. Be- wail. 11. Cl-asps. 12. Ch-rome. 13. 
Be-daub. 14. In-tent. 15. Fl-aunt. 16. Af-fair. 17. Re-turn. 

Diagonal. Lincoln. Cross-words: i. Leaflet. 2. Mission. 3. 
Pennant. 4. Precept. 5. Promote. 6. Prattle. 7. Portion. 

Connected Squares. I. i. Dine. 2. Idol. 3. Noel. 4. Ella. II. 

1. Care. 2. Abel. 3. Real. 4. Ella. III. i. Ella. 2. Lear. 3. Laic. 
4. Arch. IV. T. Arch. 2. Rare. 3. Cram. 4. Hemp. V. i. Arch. 

2. Raze. 3. Czar. 4. Herb. 

To OUR Puzzlers: Answers to be acknowledged in the magazine must be received not later than the 15th of each month, and should be ad- 
dressed to St. Nicholas Riddle-box, care of The Century Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City. 

Answers to all the Puzzles in the August Number were received before August 15th from " Peter Pan and Tinker Bell " — Mollie and 
Dorothy Jordan — " Queenscourt " — Philip Warren Thayer — Katharine B. Hodgkins. 

Answers TO Puzzles in the August Number were received before August 15th from Mildred D. Read, 6 — Frances C. Bennett, 9 — Helen 
McLeod, 4 — St. Mary's Chapter, 8 — Edna Meyle, 4 — Tom, Dick, and Harriet," 8 — Frances Maughlin, 6 — Phyllis Bideleu.x, 8 — Nora Gabain, 
8 — C. Bideleux, 7 — Harriet T. Barto, 6 — Gertrude Reid, 4 — Alice H, Farnsworth, 5 — Jessie and Dorothy Colville, 8 — Violet W. Hoff, 8 — Annie 
S. Reid, 6— "Toots and Der," 7— A. D. Bush, 7— Willie L. Lloyd, 8— Dorothy Cohoe, 2— Minna L., 5— F. H. Hottes, i— E. Nay, i— W. L. 
Adams, i— M. Blackman, i — A. M. Watrous, i — H. V. T. Butler, i. 



Charade. Apple-latch-eye-coal, ah — Apalachicola. 

Novel Acrostic. Third row, Agnes Daulton ; sixth row, Carolyn 
Wells. Cross-words: i. Statical. 2. Bugbears. 3. Sangaree. 4. 
Electors. 5. Hostelry. 5. Aldehyde. 7. Amaranth. 8. Causeway. 
9. Melodeon. 10. Mutually. 11. Groveler. 12. Confuses. 

Word-square, i. Crow. 2. Ripe. 3. Opal. 4. Well. 

Split Words. Hiawatha, i. Ac-he, st-ir, heir. 2. Sp-in, mu-ch, inch. 

3. Sc-ar, fl-ea, area. 4. lo-wa, hu-nt, want. 5. Ch-ar, am-id, arid. 6. 
Et-ta, la-me, tame. 7. Ac-he, re-al, heal. 8. Ch-ar, dr-ab, Arab. 

Illustrated Zigzag. Jenny Lind. i. Joint. 2. Lemon. 3. Ounce. 

4. Eland. 5. Money. 6. Quill. 7. Spire. 8. Anvil. 9. Dunce. 

Novel Diagonal Puzzle. From 12 to i, Philadelphia ; 12 to 23, 
Pennsylvania. Cross-words: 1. Parched. 2. Heading. 3. Innings. 



Cr,ASSICAL ACROSTIC 

When the following names have been rightly guessed 
and written one below another, the initial letters will spell 
the name of the Greek goddess of beauty. 

I. A beautiful youth killed by a boar. 2. The god of 
riches. 3. The bravest Trojan general. 4. A river of 
ancient Italy. 5. The chief Egyptian god. 6. A daughter 
of Peneius. 7. A town of Cyprus sacred to Aphrodite. 8. 
The mother of Achilles. 9. A sister of Cadmus. 

ELIZABETH D. BRENNAN (League Member). 

A STAR PUZZLE 



letter and ending with the lower right-hand letter) will 
spell the name of a very famous English novelist. The 
initials are all the same letter. 

I. The act of bringing to a central point. 2. Beautiful 
fall flowers. 3. Pertaining to craniometry. 4. The pos- 
sibility of being corrupted. 5. Decisiveness. 6. Shaped 
like a crescent. 7. Compulsion. 8. A valuable wood from 
a large tree in Ceylon. 9. Brass wind instruments. 10. 
Pertaining to a family of plants which include the cucum- 
ber, melon, and gourd. ll. Baskets to hold clean clothes. 
12. Bravery. 13. A stone which came from a certain 
mountain in Scotland. 14. Living at the same time. 

ALICE LOWENHAUPT. 



Cross-words : i. In prostrating. 2. Two letters in 
prostrating. 3. A city magistrate of ancient Rome. 4. 
To continue after an intermission. 5. A thickened root- 
stock. 6. A method of cooking eggs. 7. To reign again. 
8. Two letters in prostrating. 9. In prostrating. 

MARGUERITE KNOX (Honor Member). 

DIAGONAL 

(Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition) 

Each word described contains fourteen letters. When 
these have been rightly guessed and written one below 
another, the diagonal (beginning at the upper left-hand 



WOKD-SQUAKES 

I. I. A sign. 2. Method. 3. A feminine name. 4. 
Tidy. 

II. I. Below. 2. A tendon. 3. To draw off by degrees. 
4. To eject. 5. Tears. 

C. CRITTENDEN AND J. D. MUSSER. 

CHARADE 

Mvyfrj/the farmers often use; 
Me for my second surely choose ; 
For third, a vowel I present ; 
Yox foitrth, a common word intent 
On making Father (word so sweet) 
Become entirely obsolete. 
yiy fifth 's the opposite of thin ; 
And when you 've taken all these in, 
I think you '11 find my whole to be 
A certain kind of pharmacy. 

amy bradish JOHNSON (League Member). 



95 



96 



THE RIDDLE-BOX 




ILLUSTRATED CENTRAL ACROSTIC 

All the words pictured contain the same number of letters. 
When rightly guessed and written one below another in 
the order numbered, the central letters, reading down- 
ward, will spell the surname of a famous Englishman. 

V. D. 
NOVEL ACROSTIC 
{Gold Bad^e, St. Nicholas League Competition) 

All of the words described contain the same number of 
letters. When rightly guessed and written one below 
another, the initials will spell the name of a popular novel- 
ist, and another row of letters will spell one of his books. 
Cross-words: i. A native of Cyprus. 2. A small but 
very useful article, used by women. 3. To attribute. 4. 
Parched Indian corn pounded up and mixed with sugar. 
5. Not restrained by law. 6. A building. 7. To shut up 
apart from others. 8. A race, of Indians for which two 
states have been named. 9. To charge a public officer with 
misbehavior in office. 10. To mortify. 11. Leather pre- 
pared from the skin of young or small cattle. 12. One 
who ejects, or dispossesses. 13. A wind from the north. 
14. A meeting of a court for transacting business. 

EVANGELINE G. COOMBES. 

LETTER-PUZZLE 

Arrange the following sixteen letters so as to make four 
words which shall form a word-square : 

EEEEEEEELLLSSRRT 

ROBERT L. FISHER (League Member). 

DOUBLE BEHEADINGS AND CURTAILINGS 

( Gold. Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition) 
Example : Take three letters from anxious and leave firm ; 
rearrange the three letters and make to stop the mouth. 
Answer, Ha-gga-rd, hard, gag. 

1. Take three letters from curable, and leave an auction ; 
rearrange the tliree letters and make an interdiction. 

2. Take three letters from small villages and leave head- 
coverings ; rearrange the three letters and make a kind of 
tree. 

3. Take three letters from young eagles, and leave de- 
vours ; rearrange the three letters and make a limb. 

4. Take three letters from to forbear, and leave to check ; 
rearrange the three letters and make distant. 

5. Take three letters from a model of the human body, 
and leave chief; rearrange the three letters and make rel- 
atives. 



6. Take three letters from the Mohammedan Scriptures, 
and leave a masculine name; rearrange the three letters 
and leave a large bird of Arabian mythcJlogy. 

7. Take three letters from an excrescence on an oak, and 
leave of no legal value; rearrange the three letters and 
make a common game. 

When the foregoing words have been rightly guessed, 
the initials of the four-letter words will spell the surname 
of a general; when the three-letter words have been writ- 
ten one below another, take the middle letter of the first 
word, the last letter of the second word, the middle of 
the third, last of the fourth, and so on. The letters spell 
a name beloved by many. 

NETTIE KREINIK. 
ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS 



I. Upper Left-hand Diamond : i. In medal. 2. 
Three fourths of a pulpit reading-desk. 3. To anoint with 
oil. 4. A precious stone. 5. Gentle. 6. Former times. 
7. In medal. 

II. Upper Right-hand Diamond : i. In medal. 2. 
Force. 3. The goddess of the hearth. 4. To stretch in 
all directions. 5. Part of a ship. 6. A feminine name. 
7. In medal. 

III. Central Diamond : i. In medal. 2. The god 
Pluto. 3. The goddess of hunting. 4. A precious stone. 
6. To breathe noisily. 6. An insect. 7. In medal. 

IV. Lower Left-hand Diamond : i. In medal. 2. 
Twice. 3. An Italian word meaning "enough." 4. 
■Strife. 9. One who is indifferent to pleasure or pain. 6. 
Part of a circle. 7. In medal. 

V. Lower Right-hand Diamond : i. In medal. 2. 
To put to test. 3. A kind of woolen material. 4. 
Imagined. 5. A province of Arabia. 6. A retreat. 7. 
In medal. 

IDA E. C. FINLEY (Honor Member). 



THE DE VINNE PRESS, MEW YORK. 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




OF ALL SCENTED SOAPS PEARS' OTTO OF ROSE IS THE BEST. 

" A II rights secured." 
Nov. 1908 



S^. Nicholas League Advertising Competition No. 8j. 



I 



Time to hand iti answers is up November IQ. Prizes awarded in Jatmary number. 



The Judges are going to give all 
of the Competitors and Ex-compet- 
itors, young and old, into the hands of 
the Advertising Manager this month, 
in order that he may reap some bene- 
fit from your united efforts. Now, 
please make a good showing for your 
old friends the Judges, because they 
boasted so much about your ability 
before the Advertising Manager one 
day, that he got very much excited, 
and exclaimed that he had hopes of 
getting some real help on the adver- 
tising of St. Nicholas itself. 

May we introduce the Advertising 
Manager, who will speak for him'self 

Dear "You": — 

Good morning. Is n't this lovely 
weather for October? 

The Judges said some very nice 
things about you, and I asked them 
whether they thought you would help 
me in the work of making some ad- 
vertising for St. Nicholas. They said 
you would a// help. Now, will you? 
YOU, I mean; not only Billie, and 
John and Mary and Edith; I want 
YOU, and want YOU all lo help. 

I want YOU to try one of these 
three things: 

First. A full-page advertisement, 
illustrated, showing what St. Nicho- 
las stands for, and the influence it has 
on the family. 

Second. A good "catch phrase" 
telling in a sentence the qualities of 
St. Nicholas. 

Third. A good short story, founded 
on fact, of the different people who 



read your copy of St. Nicholas, and 
the different places to which it goes. 

Prizes will be given for the most 
useful and artistic production. 

Three First Prizes of $5.00 each. 
One for the best production in each 
class. Three Second Prizes of $3.00 
each. One for the second best pro- 
duction in each class. Three Third 
Prizes of $2.00 each. One for the 
third best production in each class. 

If I find a clever correspondent, 
I may ask him or her for special sug- 
gestions on new copy for new adver- 
tisers, which will be paid for if used. 

Stick right to the points I make, 
and YOU will help me, as well as 
your own magazine, and I will thank 
YOU. Now then, are you all ready? 

Wm. p. Tuttle, Jr. 

Advertising Matiager. 

I. This competition is open freely to all who 
may desire to compete, without charge or 
consideration of any kind. Prospective con- 
testants need not be subscribers for St. Nich- 
olas in order to compete for the prizes 
offered. 

2. In the upper left-hand corner of your paper, give 
name, age, a'ddress, and the number of this competi- 
tion (83). Judges prefer paper to be not larger than 
12 X 12 inches. 

3. Submit answers by November lo, 1908. Use 
ink. Write on one side of paper. Do not inclose 
stamps. Fasten your pages together at the upper left- 
hand corner. 

4. Do not inclose request for League badges or cir- 
culars. Write separately for these if you wish them, 
addressing ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE. 

5. Be sure to comply with these conditions if you 
wish to win prizes. 

6. Address answers : Advertising Competition, No. 
83, St. Nicholas League, Union Square, New York, 
N. Y. 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



Curtains and Draperies 




\A /HEN it's house-cleaning time or 
when you think some of your 
curtains or draperies look a little old, 
a little faded or a little worn, remem- 
ber the fairy-like transformation that 
Diamond Dyes can make. 

Read Mrs. Wilkinson's experience: 

"When we furnished our house two 
years ago, I bought old-rose draperies 
for between the doors, and old-rose 
silk sash curtains for the library and 
dining-room windows. They were 
very pretty, but began fading within a 
few months. This spring they really 
looked so bad that I thought I would 
have to get new ones. Then I thought 
of Diamond Dyes and decided to try 
dyeing them all a dark green. My 
husband laughed at me, but when they 
were finished he said they were a 
good deal prettier than the old-rose, 
and so much more restful." 

Mrs. A . M. Wilkinson, 

Philadelphia 

Remnants Made Beautiful with Diamond Dyes 

Have n't you sometimes had a few yards left over after making a dress ? Have n't you sometimes 
seen an unusual bargain in a silk or other remnant that you could use if it was a color you liked ? 

That is a time to remember Diamond Dyes. 

You can transform a remnant to almost any beautiful shade you may desire. 

It is the same way with remnants of ribbons or the old faded or spotted ribbons. Diamond 
Dyes will make them new again. 

There is hardly a thing that you have used for clothes that cannot be made bright and new 
again with wonderful Diamond Dyes. 

Don't be Fooled by a Substitute 

Some dealers will try to tell you a "pretty story "about some "just-as-good" dye. They know 
better, so do you, and so do the millions of women who have used Diamond Dyes. So don't be fooled. 

Important Facts About Goods to be Dyed: 

Diamond Dyes are the Standard of the "World and always give perfect results. You must be sure that you get the real 
Diamond Dyes and the kind oi Diamond Dyes adapted to the article you intend to dye. 

Beware of imitations of Diamond Dyes. Imitators -who make only one kind of dye claim that 
their imitations will color "Wool, Silk, or Cotton (" all fabrics") equallywell. This elaim is false, because 
no dye that will give the finest results on "Wool, Silk, or other animal fibres can be used as successfully 
for dyeing Cotton, tinen, or other vegetable fibres. For this reason we make two kinds of Diamond 
Dyes, namely: Diamond Dyes for "Wool, and Diamond Dyes for Cotton. 

Diamond Dyes for "Wool cannot be used for coloring Cotton, Linen, or Mixed Goods, but are especially adapted for 
"Wool, Silk, or other animal fibres, which take up the dye quickly. 

Diamond Dyes for Cotton are especially adapted for Cotton, Linen, or other vegetable fibres, which take up the dye 
slowly. 

" Mixed Goods," also known as "Union Goods," are made chiefly of either Cotton, Linen, or other vegetable fibres. For 
this reason our Diamond Dyes for Cotton are the best dyes made for these goods. 

New Diamond Dye Anntial Free Send us your name and address (be sure to mention your dealer's name and tell us 

whether he sells Diamond Dyes), and we will send you a copy of the New Diamond 
Dye Annual, a copy of the Direction Book, and 36 samples of dyed cloth, all FKEE. Address 

"WELLS & RICHARDSON CO., BURLINGTON, VT. 



■Diamond Dyes are the Standard Package Dyes. Every Imitation Proves It.-^ 



It 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



THE CENTURY7WAGAZINE 



IN 1909 

GROVER CLEVELAND 

— the real Grover Cleveland, will be 
described in The Cbntuby by the men 
who knew him best. 

THE GERMAN 
EMPEROR 

is the subject of a remarkable article, 
describing a conversation with him on 
curreiJt topics in which the Emperor 
talked freely. 

PADEREWSKI 

has given a most interesting interview 
to The Century,— his views on great 
composers and their music. 

SAINT- GAUDENS 

greatest of modern sculptors, who died 
recently, left an autobiography — a 
wonderful human document — racy with 
anecdotes and descriptions. It tells 
how he grew up a poor boy in New 
York City during the Civil "War period, 
and how he got his education. The 
Century will print it. 

ANDREW CARNEGIE 

is writing for The Century. Bead his 
remarkable article on the Tariff and 
learn what he knows about tariffs past 
and present. 

HELEN KELLER 

is writing for The Century. Don't miss 
her article, " My Dreams." 

ALICE HEGAN RICE 

who wrote " Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage 
Patch," wUl contribute a brilliant serial 
novel to The Century. Pathos and 
hnmor are exquisitely blended in this 
new story, "Mr. 0pp." Illustrated. 

THOMPSON SETON 

whose famous "Biography of a Grizzly" 
was written for The Century, will con- 
tribute the story of a fox, as a com- 
panion piece — a sympathetic and 
charming narrative. ( A short serial. ) 

DR. WEIR MITCHELL 

will contribute short stories, and so 
wUl Thomas Nelson Page, Kate Douglas 
Wiggln, Edith Wharton, Jack London, 
"FrancesLittle," Ruth McEneryStuart, 
and scores of the leading writers. 

THE ART IN THE 
CENTURY 

Famous pictures by American artists, 
reproduced in full color, are cominsf 
in 1909 — each one worth cutting out. 
Cole's engravings and Pennell's beauii- 
ful pictures of French cathedrals, are 
among the features. 




IN 1909 

LINCOLN 
CENTENARY 

The 100th anniversary of 
' Lincoln's birth will be appro- 
priately marked in The Cen- 
tury, which magazine has been 
the vehicle since its foundation 
for the publication of the most 
important Lincoln raaterial. 
The great Hay and Nicolay life 
of Lincoln was published serially in The Century and 
there have been nearly one hundred separate articles 
on Lincoln. Unpublished documents from Lincoln's 
own pen and from that of one of his private secretaries 
are coming in 1909. 



THE CENTURY 

for forty years has been a leader of 
American magazines. There are 
others, but there are none "just as 
good." It is a force in the community. 
There is an uplift in it — an optimis- 
tic, cheerful view of life — nothing 
of the muck-raker. You see it in the 
homes of people who really know 
what is the best. 



NEW SUBSCRIBERS 

to The Century should begin with the Novem- 
ber number, the first issue in the seventy-seventh 
volume. Price |4.00 a year. All booksellers, 
newsdealers, and subscription agents receive 
subscriptions ; or remittance may be made 
direct to the publishers, 

THE CENTURY CO. 

UNION SQUARE NEW YORK 



12 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



When I go to School 

the girls find that 1 can play 
with 'em a lot and yet my 
hair always looks nice, and my 
ribbons always stay tied. 



I '11 tell you the Secret ""-i 

and you can do it too. It 's 
because I use the 

])oi^OTHy])AfflTy 

Ribbons 

The kind that stand up and keep their freshness no matter how often they are tied, because 
they are made especially for hair bows. 

My mother says S & K Quality is the recognized standard of ribbon perfection. She ties 
my hair bows again and again and again, without crinkling or cracking^Aoo) about yours? 

Just because I am a little girl, don't think they are intended for little girls only. As long 
as I wear hair ribbons, I will always get the Dorothy Dainty kind. 

Your mother can buy Dorothy Dainty Ribbons in almost any store and she can get them 
one at a time in a cunning little envelope, or in the beautiful sash sets that have one sash and 
two hair bows to just match it and come in a lovely box with my picture on the cover. 

If your mother can't find my ribbons at her dealer's, tell her to send Smith & Kaufmann 
32 cents in stamps for a sample taffeta ribbon, 3^4^ x 40 inches. Just tell her to say what 
color she wants and who her ragular dealer is. 





I Want to Send You a Present 

and you don't have to pay anything to get it either. Just 
send me your name and the name of the store where your 
mother buys her ribbons. It's a lovely picture-book that 
tells all about me and my ribbons. A ddrcss : 



i:ar«(»/Smith&Kaufmann,85 Prince St., New York. 



13 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



BOYS! 

Don't You Want a 
COLUMBIA? 




THE BICYCLE IS YOURS FOR 
A FEW SUBSCRIPTIONS 



The name Columbia stands for one of the world's finest bicycles to-day, just 
as much as it did thirty years ago when it first climbed into great popularity and 
Nov. \ -?>\ renown in the bicycle world. They are still the product of the hands of the 
St.Nich. \ ^'\ world's most skilled workmen spurred on by a determination to make the best 
■ ifiX bicycle regardless of expense or time. 

o\ With very little effort YOU CAN EARN ONE OF THESE BICY- 

MAf^Az^NF X."^ \ CLES, by putting in your spare time working for 

40-60 E. 23d St. \ '^ \ 

Kewvo..at. Vc\ McCLURE'S MAGAZINE 

Gentlemen :— Please \ *^ \ 

send me full informa- \ "^V A magazine with a tremendous national reputation behind it, 

Columbia^^Bic'lc°e o'ffir \ ^ making it an extraordinary selling proposition— especially when 
and show me how I can \ t\ °"* '^ surrounded by a large number of well-wishing friends. 
earn one with very little XV'X 

effort. I understand that V-?\ THIS IS NOT A PRIZE CONTEST in the Sense that 

this inquiry puts me under no \°^\. only a lucky few can win, but a straightforward business 
further obligations. Smcerely, \ ^\ proposition whereby an unlimited number of persons may 

V A\ each earn a Columbia, in return for a definite amount of 

^^"^^ \ .\ work. This offer expires January ist, igog, therefore, 

LocalAddress \ . \ ^VRITE IMMEDIATELY for full particulars and 

instructions to Dept. K. 

'^°*" ^^\ THE S. S. McCLURE COMPANY 

Date State \ W 44-60 East 23d St., Ncw York City 



14 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




"""~*««««i»BiS46to». 



»» 



No Headache 

or "Tummyache 

in PtlddingS made of 



Grape-Nuts 



Sweet, wholesome, highly nutritious 
and digestible. 

(See recipe on Grape-Nuts pkg., also in booklet) 



Postum Cereal Co., Ltd., Battle Creek, Mich., U. S. A. 



IS 



?^g^=^^=g^=^^a^'?^^^^:^^?y/^>y^^^ 



ST. NICHOLAS STAMP PAGE 



IT is a curious fact that the medium of exchange used 
in a savage country should be represented upon 
postage-stamps which are used by the most highly civil- 
ized nations only. The cowrie is a very small and 
handsome shell found in the eastern portions of Africa. 
The natives have always made it a medium of exchange 
just as the American Indians did wampum. The origi- 
nal stamps of Uganda are said to have been printed 
upon a typewriter and as the cowrie was the medium of 
exchange in the country, the value of the stamps was 
made on the basis of fifty cowries to one penny. Very 
few of them were used and it is thought by some that 
the principal use of these early issues was to provide 
something which could be sold at high prices. The 
finely engraved stamps of the present issues of Uganda 
are actually used for postal purposes. 

AN INDIA SURCHARGE 

A SERIES of stamps which will always be interest- 
ing from a historical standpoint is that of the 
Queen's head issue for India surcharged C. E. F. 
These stamps were used by the English soldiers and 




others who were in Pekin during the "Boxer " troubles 
in 1900. Unused copies of them are common and 
they form an interesting memento for the collector who 
cares for his stamps because of the historical signifi- 
cance of the issues. The- letters C. E. F. stand for 
the words Chinese Expeditionary Force. 

THE FOUNDING OF SOME STAMP-ISSUING 

COUNTRIES 
''P^HE founding of some of the principal stamp-issuing 
J. countries, such, for instance, as New South Wales, 
was brought about by the establishment of a penal col- 
ony by the government of the country owning the newly 
settled territory. Timor, which belongs to Portugal, 
is such a colony, and it is said that recently an uprising 
occurred headed by one of the most popular convicts in 
the colony. The desire was to found a republic and 
the attempt would have been a success had not a Portu- 
guese cruiser appeared on the scene, the captain announc- 
ing his intention of bombarding the principal city of 
Timor unless the revolutionists laid down their arms at 
once. We have therefore escaped the issuing of a new 
series of stamps for this island. 

REPRINTS OF EXPENSIVE UNITED STATES 
STAMPS 

THERE are many spaces provided for stamps in the 
printed albums which collectors find it difficult to 
fill on account of the high prices that are asked for the 
stamps. Such, for instance, are United States envelop 
stamps for the issue of 1857 of higher value than the 
three-cent. The six-cent red and ten-cent green of this 
issue are priced anywhere from twenty to ninety dollars 
according to condition, and this makes it impossible for 
most collectors to fill the spaces. The United States 



Government has reprinted these stamps and we would 
suggest to collectors who come across these reprints, 
which are sometimes offered for sale, that it will be 
worth while to put them in their albums. The prices 
are not high, when it is possible to find them, and as the 
Government is not making any more such reprints they 
will never be worth any less than they are at present. 
The reprints may be known by the fact that the laid lines 
run vertically in the paper instead of diagonally as was 
common with all issues of this early period. . 

FILLING STAMP ALBUM SPACES 

THE difficulty of obtaining some issues of stamps 
suggests the fact that other spaces may be filled 
acceptably without paying the very highest prices for 
them. For instance, Tasmania of the issue of 1853 
contains a fourpenny orange which is quite difficult to 
get in cut square condition, the stamp itself being octag- 
onal in shape. It is much more common cut to shape 
and if the margins are good this is not a serious objec- 
tion, for the stamp was thus used. In early times pos- 
tage-stamps were so uncommon that those who used 
them found time not only to cut them apart but also to 
trim off the corners. The same statement applies to the 
stamps of Great Britain of the issue of 1847 and 1848 
and the four anna of India of 1854. These adhesives 
are different from trimmed envelop stamps and because 
they were used cut to shape are worthy of collection in 
this condition. 

WURTEMBERG STAMPS 

THERE has been considerable discussion in Germany 
over the way in which postage-stamps should be is- 
sued in the Empire. The various states desire to issue 
stamps of their own just as is still done by Wiirtemberg. 
The authorities, however, have always opposed this and 
have succeeded in carrying their points in all the discus- 
sions which have arisen. The last compromise was a 
set of stamps bearing the symbolical figure of Germania. 
This, it is said, was really a portrait of the Empress, and 
it is now declared that the next issue of stamps will have 
upon it the portrait of the Emperor William himself. 

ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS 
^'T^HE difference between old paper and silk paper 
J. in United States Revenues is not easily detected. 
The paper of the two stamps does not differ a great deal 
but fibers of silk such as are seen in bank notes may be 
discovered by careful examination of United States 
Revenues on silk paper. The fiber was very fine, being, 
in many cases, scarcely more than tiny dots and, there- 
fore, difficult of detection. CRussian local stamps are 
of higher character than the locals issued in most other 
countries. They are a semi-official issue, postmasters 
being authorized by the general government to print and 
sell them. They are, therefore, similar in character to 
the earliest issues of United States stamps commonly 
called the "postmasters" stamps. CGenuine copies 
of early Natal stamps are usually found with a faint 
embossing. Those clearly embossed are reprints in most 
cases. CChilian stamps were used in Peru in 1882 
during the occupancy of the latter country by the Peru- 
vian authorities. They may be distinguished from regu- 
lar issues for Chili by the fact that they bear circular 
postmarks upon which will be found either the word 
Lima or Callao, 



16 



I 



m STAMPS, ETC. 




BARGAINS llfr' '-'''■' 




QXAMDQ IftS diHerent, including 
O I /^ITlfi? lUO new Panama, old 

Chile, Japan, curious Turkey, scarce Paraguay, 
Philippines, Costa Rica, West Australia, several un- 
used, some picture stamps, etc., all for lOc. Big list 
and copy of monthly paper free. Approval sheets, 
50% commission. 
SCOTT STAMP & COIN CO., 18 East 23d St., New York 

4 4 1* Cf SUnnC ^^' different, including 8 unused PiCTO- 
i*" JlOalHf S RIAL, and used from all quarters of the 
globe, loc. 40 Page Album, 5c. 1000 hinges, 5c. Approval 
sheets also sent, 50 per cent, commission. 

New England Stamp Co., 43 Washi ngton Bldg., Boston. 

-lo Luxemburg: 8 Fin- 
20 Sweden ; 4 Labuan ; 8 Costa 
Rica: 12 Porto Rico: 7 Dutch Indies. Lists of 5000 low-priced 
stamps free. CHAMBERS STAMP CO., 

Ill a Nassau Street, New York City. 

StSltinS Frfifi ^° ''''^^'■*"' U. S. for the names of two collec- 
wiailips rice tors and 2C. postage. 1000 Mixed Foreign, 12c. 
4 Congo Coins, 25c. Toledo Stamp Co., Toledo, Ohio. 

STAMP ALBITM with 588 eennlne Stamps, incL Kho- 
desia, Congo (tiger), Cliina (dragon), Tasmania (landscape), 
Jatnaica (waterfalls), etc., only lOe. Agts. Wtd. 50per cent. 
Riff bargain liiit, couDonfi and a ftet of rare 
etampa worth itOc. ALL. FREE! We Buy Stampx. 
O. E. HF88MAN CO., Pept. I, St. Louig, Mo. 

5 VARIETIES URUGUAY FREE with trial approval 
sheets. F.E. THORP Norwich IM.Y. 

SEND US ONLY 50 CENTS 

and we will enter your subscription for a whole year (52 issues) to 
REDFIELD'S STAMP WEEKLY and will send you, byre- 
turn mail, a packet of 300 all different foreign stamps. The catalog 
value of these stamps is over $5.00. This offer is good for a 
limited time only. (Canadian and foreign subscribers must add 
50c. for postage.) Q KEDFIELD'S STAMP WEEKLY 
is the finest weekly stamp periodical in the world. Q We will 
refund your money promptly if you are not more than satisfied 
with the paper and the stamps. Address, 
THE REDFIELD PUBLISHING CO., 7ii9 Main St., SMETHPORT, FA. 

108 all diff. Transvaal, Servia, Bra- 
_ zil, Peru, Cape G. H., Mexico, Na- 
tal, Java, etc., and Album 5c. 1000 FINELY 
I MIXED 20c. 65 diff. U. S. 25c. 1000 hinges 5c. 

Agents vi'td. 50%. LIST FREE. I buy stamps. 

C. STEGMAN. 5941 Cote Brill Avenue. ST. LOUIS. MO. 

pDI^'E' 40 U. S. from 1851 to 1902 for the names of two col- 

* ■■■^■-'l-i le ctors and 2c. postage, no all diff. and album loc. 

P. CROWELL STAMP CO., Toledo, Ohio. 

STAMPS! Our Leader: 1000 stamps many 
varieties, incl. Malay, Newfoundland, Philip- 
pines, Comoro, Congo, etc. only 15c. Stamp Al- 
bum, coupons, large new list, bargain lists all 
Free-! Agts. wtd. 50%. We Buy Stamps. 
E. J. Schuster Co., Dept. 30, St. Louis, Mo. 

ITDprir A BEAUTIFUL STAMP BADGE for 

r n E^ ^L the names of several stamp collectors and return 
postage. 1000 foreign, 14c.; 30 diff. Sweden, loc; 12 diff. 
Austria, 4c. Catalog pricing all stamps, loc; 6 diff. China, loc. 
Write for our List of DEALERS' OUTFITS, and other Lists. 
TIFFIN STAMP CO., Sta. "A," ii6a, St., Columbus. O. 

Five unused stamps free to appli- 
cants for approval sheets. 50 per 
cent, discount. 
C. C. SMITH, Tarrytown, N. Y. 




STAMPS 




STAMPS 



CDCC f I Superior Album ; 6 Persian all diff.; "Hints to Beg^in- 
■ llbk I ners,'* very useful ; i Mekeel perforation gauge; 25alldiff. 
U.S.; 105 all diff. foreign ; 3 Ecuador 1901, ALL FREE if you send 25c 
for new 6 mos. sub. to MeAeeTs IVeekly Stamp News, Boston, Mass. 

Rrifiek PnlAHialc""''"*'?^ *"^ ^^^^ stock, 50 different, loc. 

milldll UUIUniald 50 picture stamps, 52c; 6 Gold Coast, loc; 
7 Hong Kong, loc; 6 Barbados, loc ; 3 Fiji, 6c; 7 Straits, loc. 40 page de- 
scriptive catalog free. COLONIAL STAMP CO., 953 K. 53d St., Chicago. 

STAMP ALBUM FREE frle t^ef^-r 

500 finely mixed foreign stamps incl. Sudan (camel), Venezuela,- 
large Dahomey, Costa Rica, old Greece, Peru, Cuba, etc., . 13c. 
203 all different foreign: Persia, Morocco, Brazil, etc., . . 33c. 
NATIONAL, STAMP CO., COLUMBUS. OHIO. 

U^ rniNC Set of 8, 50c. J^c.lc. big, Ic. eagle, le'. 
. «J. VVrtm nickel, 2c., 3c. silver, 3c. nickel, 5c. silver. 
S Stamp and coin lists free. R. M.Lanq- 
2ETTEL, 154 Elm St., opp.YaleGymnasiuTO, New Haven, C onn. 

CEND reference from parent or teacher for 50% Appr. sheets and 
"^receive free 6 Sweden, 6 Japan, 5 Denmark, and set Army 
Franks. H. J. Kleinman, 3643 N. Marshall St., Phila., Pa. 



70 Different Foreign Stamps from 'Boiivu"^ceyi?n '''ciTe' 
70 Different Foreign Countries gri,"" maS?.'' s'i^iol^ci 

Newfoundland, Persia, Reunion, Servia, Tunis, Trinidad, Uruguay, etc. 
FOR ONLY 15 CENTS — A GENUINE BARGAIN 

With each order we send our pamphlet which tells all about "How to 
Make a Collection of Stamps Properly." Send your name and address 
for our monthly bargain list of sets, packets, albums, etc. 
QUEKN CITV STAUP & COIN CO., 7 Siiiton Bldg., Cincinnati, O. 

'U'a# Y^^IIcS Mother's patent to comfort children cold 
"■^^ iFVMmS nights and drives. Lithographed cloth out- 
side; best quality rubber lining; holds hot water. Little Patty, 
13 inches tall, one quart, $I.5U. Minnehaha, holds two quarts 
" Laughing Water," $2.00. Full information on request, 
Mrs, PATTY COMFORT, 183 Main St., Andover, Mass. 

THE KUTE KARPENTER 

Work-bench with tools. A new and unique plaything for the 
Little Boy who likes to make things. Parents send for circular 
before making your Christmas selection. Write now to 
THE KUTE KARPENTER CO., Toy Dept., Buffalo. N. Y. 



ScroU Saw^ 

Postage, 15 cents extra 

Every live boy will find it an article exactly 
to his liking. We supply all parts, saws, 
screws, etc., necessary for setting up and 
putting into operation, together with direc- 
tions and suggestive patterns. 

Miniature Xovelty Co. 

132 £ast 2ot]i St., Neiiv York 




AFTER A MEAL 




REALLY DELIGHTFUL 



THAT DAINTY MINT COVERED 
CANDY COATED CHEWING GUM 

AN OUNCE FOR A NICKEL *nd inS'^andIO^PACKETS 

FRANK t1. FLEER &COJN[.philm)ELPhiaaki) TORONTO. -'M 

17 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



Holiday 
Silver^vare 




Rich and dainty table eflects may always 
be secured il the knives, forks, spoons 
and serving pieces are of the famous 



9? 



'M ROGERS BROS: 

ware — for over sixty years notable for 
durabihty and beauty of design. Make 
your selections early while the dealer 
has a variety of patterns. 

Styles illustrated above (reading from 
left to right) are Faneuil, Vintage, Avon, 
Charter Oak and Priscilla — all worthy 
examples of "Silver Plate that Wears. " 

Best dealers everywhere. 

Send lor Catalog " Y-5 ," which shows all designs, 
MERIDEN BRITANNIA CO., Marlden, Conn. 

(Interoational Silver Co., Successor. ) 
NEW YORK CHICAGO SAN FRANCISCO 

Miridrn Silver Polish, the " Silver Polish that Cleans." 



Prizes for children who can draw 

ANY boy or girl under 
14 may win one of 

the 1 0,000 prizes we offer 
in connection with our Liberty 
Bell school shoe. 

Your shoe dealer can give you 
a booklet describing the plan, 
and the Liberty Bell shoe. If 
he hasn't it, send your name and 
his to us and we'll send one. 

Liberty Bell shoes are for 
children. 

They fit young feet right; 
look right, wear well. 




Largest makers of good shoes in the world 



MENNEN'S 

BORATED TALCUM 

TOILET POWDER 




"Baby's Best Friend" 

and Mamma's greatest comfort. JVIennen's relieves and 

prevents Chapped Hands and Chafing. 

For your protection the genuine is put up in non=refill- 

able boxes — the "Box that Lox," with Mennen's face 

on top. Sold everywhere or by mail 25 cents. Sample free. 
Try Mennen's Violet (Borated) Talcum Toilet Powder — It 
has the scent of Fresh-cut Parma Violets. SafnpU Free. 

GBRHA.RD MENNEN CO.. NewarK. N.J. 

Meonen's Sen Yang Toilet Powder, Oriental Odor f No 
Mennen's Borated Skin Soap (blue wrapper) ( Samples 

Specially prepared for the nursery. Sold only at Stores, 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




The Sled that Steers 




Wins every 

Race 

Is the heart's desire of youth in 
Winter—the only sled that satis- 
fies the boy or ^irl who knows 

The fastest, safest, strongest, ever invented. A Boy'3 
sled— the only one Girls can properly control. Steers 
easily around others without dragging the feet^runs 
away from them all— runs farthest. Easiest to pull 
up hill. 

Saves its cost in shoes the first winter— prevents wet 
feet, colds and Doctor's bills. Built to last of special 
steel and second growth white ash, handsomely finished. 
Insist on a Flexible Flyer. 

Look for the new Flexible Flyer Kacer— long, low, 
narrow, speedy, moderate priced. 

Send for Free Cardboard Model (,sho7innz Just how it steers) 
and colored Christmas booklet "withprices. 

S. L. ALLEN 4 CO., Box 1101 V.Philadelphia. Pa. 

Potor^-fonci jiQd goie ManufactuTersI.^_>^.^ 



Both Teachers and Parents 

Should be interested in having the best in- 
spiration to good citizenship offered to the 
young of our day. 
Send for a description of 

Forman^s Advanced Civics 

and see what everybody says about this re- 
maritable book. Adopted exclusively for 
Chicago and in hundreds of schools and cities. 

THE CENTURY CO., Union Square, NEW YORK 




Boys and Girls, Get a Rockaway 

Rans on roller bearings. Can safely coast WITHOUT SNOW any- 
where a sled runs. No dragging feet. New guiding principle. Safety 
brake regulates speed. Sent direct $3 ; express prepaid east Rocky Moun- 
tains. Order from this ad. ; money back if not satisfied, WholesalerSf 
dealers, order big for Christinas. 

IVrite for FREE Booklet— " Snoivless Coasting." 

THE ROCKAWAY COASTER CO., 71 RaceSt., Cincinnati, 0. 




det in Line 
for Promotion 

Don't be content to ivai7 for promotion, but 
compel it by learning to do some one thing better 
than the other fellow. It's easy — the International 
Correspondence Schools of Scran ton will tell you 
how you can learn in your spare time. 

There's a big call for the trained boy. He earns 
a good salary at the start. He wins promotion 
rapidly — going up, up, up while the untrained chap 
is still tying parcels and running errands. 

Mark and mail the coupon to-day. The finding out 
costs you nothing. No books to buy. Get your 
parents interested — they wish you to succeed. 
This is your opportunity to get next on the promo- 
tion list. Don't put it off, but 

MARK THE COUPON NOW 



International Correspondence Schools, 

Box 828, SCRA.NTON, PA. 

Please explain, without further obligation on my part, 

how I can qualify for employment or advancement 

in the po8ition,before which I have marked X 



Bookkeeper 
Stenographer 
Advertisement Writer 
Show Card Writer 
Window Trimmer 
Commercial Law 
Illu«(trator 
Civil Service 
Chemlut 

Textile MillSupt. 
Electrician 
£lec. Engineer 



mechanical Draftsman 
Telephone Eneineer 
Elcc. Llffhtins^upt. 
Mechan. Engineer 
P^mber & Steam Filter 
Stationary Engineer 
Civil Enflrineer 
Buildinfc Contractor 
ArchitecM Uraftsmaa 
Architect 

Structural Engineer 
Bankine 
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Name_ 



Street and No., 
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19 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 







ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



"Sunshine for Rainy Days" 



KDCri 
TOYS 




OH, THE JOYS 

OF MAKING TOYS 

KOCH PAPER TOYS 



KDCI1 
TDYS 




These " Paper " Toys are made out of a 
special kind of paper that 's just as solid 
when they 're glued together as though made 
of wood. Yes, of course you have to cut 
the pieces, and glue them just as you have 
to do with real furniture. Only this is 50 
easy. Now are you ready? Well, cut 
this here, and fold it there, and paste it over 
that part — nicely now — and oh, — if that 
is n't the cutest little rocking-chair you 
ever saw. And look, it rocks, too, and 
will hold your doll very comfortably. And 
then you say, "Oh, it's /ast what I have 
wanted for my doll's house for so long. Sis- 
ter, and here 's the rest of the furniture for 
the house — and it 's the sweetest size " 
— oh, go right away and ask your toy man 
for set No. 1 , and you '11 have more fun 
than you 've had in years. . 



If you can'l get Koch Paper Toys from 
your toy man, let us know and we 'II 
tell you where you can get them, 
for 50c a set, and ten tbys to each set. 



STEPHEN O. URIE & CO. 

K.OCH PAPER TOYS 
PHILADELPHIA. - PA. 




KOCH 
TOYS 



21 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




Louise, Heroine of 
** The Glass House** 



Seven Great Stories by 
Seven Famous Authors m the 
Seven Hundredth Number 

of the Woman's Home Companion. Here they are: The Glass House, a novel by Florence 
Morse Kingsley; The High Seat of Abundance, a true story by Jack London; The Deserters, 
a love story by Alice Brown ; The Turkey of the Parocco, a Thanksgiving love story by 
Mary Heaton Vorse ; Old Time Campaigns, a reminiscent election story by Rebecca Harding 
Davis ; The Better Treasure, a Christmas story by Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews ; and 
The Colonel and the Colonel's Daughter, a character story by Irving Bacheller, the creator 
of " Eben Holden" — all this and more in the November 

WOMAN'S HOME 
COM£AgIO]Sl 

WOMAN'S HOME COMPANION 

' is woman's home companion ir 600,000 homes 

One Dollar will make it so in yours. Address 
MADISON SQUARE, NEW YORK CITY 
10 Cents On All Newsstands 



22 



57". NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 

The newest and most nutritious food 
for the 



School Lunch 



that children like as well as cake^ and 
that has been recommended by food 
experts to careful mothers is 



Currant Bread 



Currants are a naturally dried seedless 
grape from Greece, and form a most 
healthful, nourishing and easily di- 
gested food. 

Adding 3 parts of currants to 7 
parts of dough doubles the food value 
of the loaf 

GASH PRIZES 

Children: We will pay $5 each for the best 
two letters from a school boy or girl telling 
why he or she likes currant bread. Answers 
must be received by November 15. 

There is no charge or consideration of any kind for those e ttering this contest. 

Mothers : Send for " Currant Bread Recipes." 

HELLENIC BUREAU 

626 Tribune Building, New York 

23 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




Make a good article. Keep on making it good. 

Tell people how good it is. And they will buy it ; and keep on 
buying it. 

Ivory Soap is a case in point. 

From the beginning, the idea has been to make it so good, so 
pure, so satisfactory in every way that people who bought it once 
would continue to juy it. They do. 

And because it is pu'e, because it is good, because it is satisfactory in 
every way. Ivory Soap is equally available for bath, toilet and fine laundry 
purposes. 

Ivory Soap . . . 99''5d^o Per Cent. Pure. 



{ '■rifXg,fW'i--t.-JV:W!iKi-". g5g 



mg.«m.BllM.|.»JIHI14U,:..J..",-. "."T-.MJUH 



«4 



/<?(/ )r 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



St. Nicholas for i909 



^ 



THE new volume of St. Nicholas, which begins with the November 
number, will offer to its young readers a most attractive list of serial 
features. One of these will be 



«« 



CAPTAIN CHUB" 

By RALPH HENRY BARBOUR 

This story will fitly round out the "Ferry Hill Series" which Mr. Barbour 
has written especially for this Magazine, and will end it in a blaze of glory. 
For, popular as the trio, "Dick," "Harry," and "Roy" are, there can be 
no doubt that the clever and care-free "Chub" Eaton, with his good 
humor and his keen wit, is really the most popular of all. Hitherto he 
has played only a subordinate part, and it is only fair, now, that he should 
occupy the center of the stage as the leading character. Mr. Barbour has 
given him the role of hero for the next twelvemonth and the story also 
chronicles more important happenings than any of the other tales. No 
admirer of those stories should miss reading "Captain Chub." 

"Ralph Henry Barbour puts action into his stories, 
and that is what a healthy boy likes." 

Another serial of absorbing interest to boys is a story 
of adventure entitled 

"A SON OF THE DESERT" 

By BRADLEY GILMAN 

The scene of the story is laid in Egypt, and the hero, after being be- 
friended by a young American boy, repays his obligation in a thrilling 
manner. The story teems with interesting incidents and stirring descrip- 
tion, including an account of a terrific sandstorm, and a capture by 
brigands. ." chub " 

Mr. Oilman was a classmate of President Roosevelt at Harvard, and ' -,!>■'. 

this story took shape in his mind during a recent visit to Egypt. He has written a stor;^%'hich deserves to 
rank with the best work of Henty and Mayne Reid in sustained interest and a succession of stirring adventures. 



The Magazine will also offer to girl readers a de- 
lightful and spirited serial story entitled 

"THE LASS OF THE 
SILVER SWORD" 

By MARY CONSTANCE DU BOIS 

Though it bears a romantic title, the story deals with Amer- 
ican girl life, in most entertaining fashion. Opening with a 
basket-ball game and the formation of a league or society 
in a girls' school, the action is speedily transferred to a 
girls' camp in the Adirondacks, where a fascinating va- 
riety of sports and adventures leads to a culmination 
of intense power and interest. The two leading char- 
acters, Jean Lennox and Carol Armstrong, will win the 
hearts of girl readers everywhere. 





ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



ST. NICHOLAS FOR 1909— Continued 



Another "through-the-year" feature will 
be the unique series 



vt^«WHEN I GROW UP" 

By W. W. DENSLOW 

The series will set forth in amusing form the " day dreams " of an American youngster, as to 
the wonderful things which he will achieve in his grown-up days, as an Admiral, or a Soldier, 
or an Orator, or a Hunter, etc., and each "day dream" will be illustrated, not only with two 








FULL-PAGE PICTURES IN COLOR 

but, in addition to these, with numerous clever Denslow drawings in black and white. The text is natural, boy- 
like, and amusing, and the pictures are inimitable in fun and of surpassing merit artistically. Of all the artists 
who have made illustrations for young folk, there is probably no other who combines in equal degree with Mr. 
Denslow the gifts of abounding humor, bold and masterly skill in drawing, and a genius for decorative effect. 




His Vi^^ fame was long ago estab- ■H^k lished by his drawings El^^ for "The Wizard of Oz," 
and ^^^^ his color books for chil- ^^^^ dren, such as "Father ^^^ Goose," "The House that 
Jack Built," "Humpty Dumpty," etc. But this series, as he himself declares, represents the best work that 
he has ever done, and therefore justifies the heavy expense involved, and the great outlay which the Publishers 
have bestowed upon it. It cannot fail to win wide popularity. 




The "Queen Silver- Bell " story, is 

"THE SPRING CLEANING 



» 



By MRS. FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT 

Of all Mrs. Burnett's delightful stories for the young in heart, none is quite so 
deliciously whimsical and fascinating as her series of "Queen Silver-Bell" 
fairytales; and of these — "Queen Silver-Bell," " Racketty-Packetty House," 
"The Cozy Lion," and "The Spring Cleaning "—the last is the most amus- 
ing and is a story to appeal to the imagination and the heart of every child. 
With twenty delicious pictures by Harrison Cady. 

On the practical side, also, there will be serial contributions that will attract 
strongly both boys and girls. One of these. 



"THE ART OF CONJURING 



99 



^ ^ By HENRY HATTON 

.--'"' ) will not only explain many of the leading tricks performed by conjurers on 

' ,' , , :4 the stage, but will also give directions, bringing these sleight-of-hand wonders 

' within the range of Parlor Magic, and enabling boys to perform the same 

tricks themselves. Mr. Hatton was for several years a public performer and is well known as one of the most 
expert conjurers of the day. 

6 



i 



I 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



ST. NICHOLAS FOR 1909— Continued 



A companion series of a very different sort is intended for girls, and will consist of two pages each month devoted to 



**THE ST, NICHOLAS COOKING CLUB 

By CHARLOTTE BREWSTER JORDAN 



» 



The "cooking" will be hardly 
more than play ; the recipes 
will all be of the simplest 
kind and given in easy rhyme 
(with, of course, a brief prose 
list of ingredients). More- 
over, the things to be 
"cooked," are simple dain- 
ties specially appropriate to 
the season. For'instance, in 
November, "GOODIES 

FOR THE NUT-CRACK 
NIGHT"; December will tell of "THANKSGIVING TIDBITS," and each month of the year will thus have 
its own menu, and the girls will find its preparation only fun, and with a delicious reward. 




"HISTORIC BOYHOODS 



» 



will be continued, and will present brief and pithy accounts of the boyhood of famous men, including " SIR 
WALTER SCC^TT," "CHARLES DICKENS," "FREDERICK THE GREAT," "LAFAYETTE," and 
our own great American President, "ABRAHAM LINCOLN." 

0/ the abundant short stories, sketches, poems, rhymes, and pictures in the 
, new volume, any detailed mention must be deferred. But they will all main- 

tain the high reputation which "St. Nicholas'''' has long held as a treasure 
house of the very best reading, ijtstruction, and amusement for boys and girls. 



This December number contains a clever little Christ- 
mas play, 

**How Christinas Was Saved*' 

By Mrs. Edwin Markliam 

with illustrations by Mrs. Albertine Randall Wheelan, 
and the January number will present a charming 
masque for boys and girls entitled 

** Father Time and His Children" 

Written by Marguerite Merington 

These plays ^*'ill meet a pressing demand for 
a school or parlor entertainmentj especially 
adapted to the holiday season. 





and boys. 



There are going to be 

more and better features 

than ever 

For Very 
Little Folks 

and a delightful series 
called "Dr. Daddiman's 
Stories." Their whimsical 
humor will charm the 
olebousehold. Everynum- 
r will have short stories 
d rhymes a. dpicturesspec- 
Ily for 
girls 

^M 



THE ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 

has proved its great value and its popularity during the past year, as never be- 
fore. There has been a steady increase in the membership itself, as well as in 
the number of contributions received, while the stories, poems, and sketches 
also, are constantly mounting to a higher level of merit. 

It is impossible to overestimate the beneficial influence — both in the home 
and the school — of this organization, with its thousands and thousands of 
active-minded boys and girls, who, though personally unknown to one another, 
are all vitally interested, each month, in competition among themselves, in lit- 
erary composition, drawing, photography, and the solving of puzzles. 

"NATURE AND SCIENCE," also, is more interesting than ever, and 
popular with both teachers and scholars all over the country. 

*^ 
TERMS : 

S3.00 A YEAR. 
.Send in your renewals early. 

THE CENTURY CO., 
Union Square, New York. 








ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



IHew Cbnstmas Books for (Bitis anb Bo^s 

The First Brownie Book in Color 

BROWNIE CLOWN OF BROWNIETOWN 

Pictures in color and verses by Palmer Cox 

Colored cover, 6^ xg inches. $l.oo. 

A new " Two Years Before the Mast " 

THREE YEARS BEHIND THE GUNS 

The sub-title is " The True Chronicles of a ' Diddy-box.' " 

It is the story of a boy who ran away and enlisted just in time to cross the Pacific Ocean 
in the Olympia and share in the Battle of Manila Bay on the flagship with Dewey. The 
book is highly recommended by the Admiral himself and by other distinguished naval 
officers. A capital book for a boy's Christmas — for any one's, in fact. 

Illustrated by Jorgensen and from photographs. $1.50. 



By the Author of 
•♦The Crimson Sweater" 

HARRY'S 
ISLAND 

Ralph Henry Barbour'snewbook, 
just the kind of a story that boys 
like. All about a camping party 
and the fun they had. Beautifully 
illustrated hy Relyea . $ i . 50. 



THE 
HAPPYCHAPS 

Verses by Carolyn Wells 
Pictures by Harrison Cady 

A delightful book for little chil- 
dren telling of a new kind of 
Brownie. $1.50. 




By the Author of 
Little Lord Fauntleroy" 

THE SPRING 
CLEANING 

A new "Queen Silver-Bell" story 
by Mrs. Frances Hodgson Bur- 
nett. Whimsical, fascinating, and 
of interest to young and old. /llus- 
t'-ated in color by Harrison Cady. 
$.60. 



FRITZI 

By 

Agnes McClelland Danlton 

with charming illustrations by 
Florence E. Storer. A sweet 
andtender story for girls, told with 
sympathy and skill. The book 
for a girl's Christmas. $1.50. 



FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS I HAVE KNOWN 

By Major-General O. O. HOWARD 

Here the last living division commander of the Civil War tells of his interesting experi- 
ences with different Indian braves. General Howard has had more to do with Indian 
leaders than any other man in either civil or military life. A book of enduring value. 
Illustrated by Varian and from photographs. $1.50. 

BOUND VOLUMES OF ST. NICHOLAS 

Many people buy these bound volumes at the end of the year, instead of subscribing to 
the monthly numbers of " the best of children's magazines." Such a treasure house of 
literature and art for children can be had in no other form. 

In two parts, a thousand pages, a thousand pictures. $4.00. 

The beautifully illustrated pamphlet, "Books to Buy," which we send free on request, contains "A 
Classified List of Books for Young Folks, " telhng whether thebooks are for boys or girls and for what age. 
Invaluable at Christmas. 

ZTbe Century Co. 
■Qlnion Square mew l^orft 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



GREAT BOOKS FOR YOUNG FOLKS 

Standard Bonks published by The Century Co. 
Having a great yearly sale. Should be in every Child' s Library 

Rudyard Kipling's Famous Books 



The Jungle Book 

With illustrations by W. H. Drake and others. 
Containing "Mowgli's Brothers," " Riklci-Tikki- 
Tavi," "Toomai of the Elephants," and others. 
303 pp. Price, ;?i.50. 



The Second Jungle Book 

Decorations by J. Lockwood Kipling. Contains 
the stories "How Fear Came," "Letting in the 
Jungle," "The King's Ankus," etc. 324 pages. 
Price, ^1.50. 



Captains Courageous' 



It tells of a rich man's son who fell overboard from an ocean steamer and was picked up by a fishing dory off 
the Grand Banks. How the experience with the hardy fishermen made a man of him is something worth 
reading. Every boy should own this book. Twenty illustrations by Taber. 323 pages. Price, ^1.50. 



Mary Mapes Dodge's 
** Donald and Dorothy *' 

The famous author of "Hans Brinker : or the 
Silver Ska^s" has here written a story of boy and 
girl life which has become a children's classic and 
which is put into thousands of new libraries every 
season. Illustrated. 355 pages. Price, $1.50. 



Mrs. C. V. Jamison's 
** Lady Jane ** 

Nearly twenty years ago this story was published 
serially in St. Nicholas, and since its issue in book 
form it has had a constant sale. It is a delightful 
story of girl life in Louisiana. Illustrations by Birch. 

233 pp. Price, ^1.50. 



Ernest Thompson Seton's ''Biography of a Grizzly*' 

No book ever written about animals has been more popular than this. It seems as if it were the real story 
of a real grizzly. Issued in beautiful form with illustrations and decorations by the artist-author. Printed 
in red and black on tinted paper. 167 pages. $1.50. 



The Pilgrim's Progress 

John Bunyan's great classic issued in very beautiful 
form with 1 20 designs done by the brothers Rhead 
and with an introduction by the Rev. H. R. Haweis. 
The book is a large handsome quarto with every 
page illuminated. 184 pages. Price, Ji. 50. 



Boys' Life of 
Abraham Lincoln 

Based on the standard life of Lincoln written by 
Messrs. Nicolay and Hay and adapted to the reading 
of young folks by Miss Helen Nicolay. With 35 
illustrations. 307 pages. Price, ^1.50. 



The Bible for Young People 

Making the Bible more attractive to boys and girls. The verse numbering is omitted, the chapters as given in 
the Bible are disregarded, and each chapter is complete in itself. Genealogies and such parts of the book as are 
usually omitted by careful parents when reading aloud to their children are not included. Printed in large type. 
475 pages. Illustrated with beautiful engravings of paintings by the old masters. New edition. Price, ^1.50. 



Master Skylark 

John Bennett's fine story of the times of Shakspere, 
the great dramatist and Queen Elizabeth being char- 
acters in the book. Forty pictures by Birch. 
Price, ^1.50. 



Hero Tales 

Mr. Roosevelt's book, wri'tten with Henrv 
Cabot Lodge, and telling the story of great 
deeds in American history. Illustrated. 
Price, ^1.50. 



The Century Book for Young Americans 

The Story of the Government, showing how a party of boys and girls found out all about how it is con- 
cucted. One of a series of patriotic books by Eldridge S. Brooks. 

Some Strange Corners of Our Country 

By Charles F. Lummis, describing some out-of-the-way wonders of the United States. With many pic- 
tures. Price, ^1.50. 

Sold by booksellers everywhere or sent, pos^aid, on receipt of price by the publishers. 



THE CENTURY CO. union square NEW YORK 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



These Four Books \trill be found specially suitable for children of 7 years or under 



Christmas Every Day 



By W. D. HOWELLS 



A delicate and tender story about a little girl who " wishes it might be Christ- 
mas every day." Her father tells her why it cannot be. 

Illustrations and Pictorial Borders in Color. Square Quarto, Cloth, $1.75 



By GERTRUDE SMITH 



Little Ned Happy and Flora 

To almost every child at some time comes the illusion of an imaginary play- 
mate, who shares all the fun and livens up solitary hours. Ned Happy is only a 
pretended little boy, but a very merry one. Sunny and sweet, a true child's book. 

Illustrations in Full Color and Pictorial Cloth Cover. Quarto, $1.30 net 

Wee Winkles at the Mountains By gabrielle e. jackson 

Jolly, chubby little Wee Winkles is almost seven years old in this story, and 
her brother Wideawake is nearly ten. Illustrated. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.25 



By PAUL DE MUSSET 



Mr. Wind and Madam Rain 

An enchanting tale from old Breton folk-lore which Paul de Musset has filled 
with charming fancies. Rollicking humor and vigorous, almost boisterous, action 
make it refreshingly different from the conventional fairy tale. 

Illustrated. I2mo, Cloth, 60 cents 



These Three Books vrill be found specially suitable for children of about 7 to 11 years 



In the Open By william o. stoddard 

Jolly exploits and youthful pranks in the life out of doors. The stories tell of 
Indians, fishing, hunting, camping, roaming the broad country under the open 
sky. They are not desperately adventurous tales, but breezy, exciting. 

Illustrated. Cloth, 60 cents 



The Fifteen Decisive 
Battles of the World 

From Marathon to Waterloo, and 
Eight Others : Quebec — Yorktown — 
Vicksburg — Gettysburg — Sedan — Ma- 
nila Bay — Santiago — Tsu-Shima (The 
Sea of Japan). The present volume 
contains the text of Sir EDWARD 
CREASY'S famous work and eight 
other battles in addition. 

With Maps. Post 8vo, $1.25 

HARPER 




Adventures at Sea 

By Rear-Admiral T. H. STEVENS 
and Others 

Here are strange sea stories of whale 
hunts, wrecks, fires, storms, castaways, 
and thrilling rescues. Most of them are 
founded on fact, for the reason that 
nothing could be more romantic than 
things which have really happened on the 
sea. 

Illuslrated. I2mo, Cloth, 60 cents 



& BROTHERS 



lO 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



All the Books on this page will be found specially suitable for children of about 12 to 14 years 



The Young Alaskans By emerson hough |^^^^E 

Three Alaskan boys go to Kadiak Island on a hunting and fishing trip, ■■^t^^Su^^ 

and are cast away in a dory amid danger and hardship. There is a run of MBk^--^ '■ l/'^SjS^ 

salmon in the river near their camp; they shoot one of the great brown HRMT'^ifc^ :i 

grizzlies of Kadiak; they hunt the sea-otter, and watch a tribe of Aleutians Bm~~~sL k^^'s^ 

kill a whale, besides many other adventures. The story has the atmosphere Hill ^bjIi5i£?' 

of the sea and the great open spaces of the North. Lively in style and truthful ^^^r^iks***:?^'; 

in its descriptions, THE .YOUNG ALASKANS will surely appeal to ^^^^^^M 

boys and to those who are particular about what boys should read. uSS^^S^^^^^M 

Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $1.23 |||^ ^^WJ||^^^^ 

Miss Betty of New York douglas ra.AND W^^^^ 

A charming story of the friendship and adventures of Betty and Chris. They leave New York for 
the country. Of the incidents of country life, Chris's loyal stand for his father's memory, and his 
plunge into the world alone, there is a series of vivid pictures characterized by all the author's sym- 
pathy, vivacity, and humor. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $ 1 .25 

The Eagle Badge By holman day 

An exciting story of adventure in the lumber woods and the log-drive, where the hero makes some 
strange friends. Were they patriots or smugglers, secret-service men or counterfeiters .'' What was 
the fate of the plucky young man } The story tells of these and other events in this wonderful country 
of the pines. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $1.25 

Uncle Sam's Business By crittenden marriott 

This book tells how Uncle Sam carries out the orders of his citizens — in such ways as their mail 
business, bank business, draining of lands, tests of pure food and poor water, and scores of other 
services for their comfort, convenience, and welfare. No tale of Arabian nights could compare with 
the magic of such work as this. The style of the narrative is clear and simple, and it is all done with 
energy and enthusiasm. Post 8vo, Cloth, $1.25 

Under the Great Bear By kirk munroe 

One of the very best of Mr. Monroe's great books for boys. A young mechanical engineer goes off 
to Newfoundland and Labrador for an iron and copper company. On the way an iceberg wrecks the 
ship; he drifts alone on a raft and is picked up. He lands where the French and English are rivals in 
the lobster-canning business. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $ 1 .25 

HARPERS How to Understand Electrical Work 

By WILLIAM H. ONKEN. Jr. -r^^iZ^^X^i^Z^., and JOSEPH B. BAKER, ^ f ^t'tlf/S;..^ 

A simple explanation of electric light, heat, power, and traction in daily life. This book tells us 
how and why "the wheels go round," when the force that drives them is electricity. We know that 
trolley cars are impelled by an electric wire, we recognize the third rail of electric trains, we hear of 
powerful electrical furnaces, and at home we read and sometimes cook by electricity. 

Illustrated. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $ 1 .75 

The Kidnapped Campers By flavia a. c. canfield 

Almost wholly a story of fishing, camp-life, and the outdoor activities that boys love, and it has a 
very novel plot. Archie, the young hero, is the son of wealthy parents, and is spoiled and fretful, so 
that they go to consult a bluff old country doctor about him. Archie is lounging before the house one 
day when a young man, called " Uncle Weary," appears, tells him he is to take him on a trip, gains 
the boy's confidence, and, picking up another boy, they all start oif into the country. Then their 
adventures begin. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $ 1 .25 

HARPER & BROTHERS 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



SCRIBNER'S HOLIDAY BOOKS 



TOMMY TROrS 
VISITto SANTA CLAUS 

BY 

THOMAS NELSON PAGE 

Ilhistrated in color and black and white. $i.oo 

To enjoy a real Christmas story written by 
a prince among story-tellers is the treat in 
store for little folk whose Christmas stock- 
ings will include a copy of "Tommy Trot." 
It is a wonderfully charming little book, full 
of the joy of Christmas and breathing be- 
neath the fairy land wonders of yule tide 
the beautiful spirit of sharing the festival 
joys with others. — Baltimore Sun. 




Theyjiew ofi overjields qfivhite snow 



ENGLISH VOYAGES OF 
ADVENTURE AND DISCOVERY 

Retold from Hakluyt by Edwin M. Bacon. Ilhistrated. $1.50. 

The first-hand narratives of the great and daring undertakings con- 
nected with the discovery and settlement of America make a book for 
boys unequaled for interest and historical value. The stories are sup- 
plied with notes and 
introduction. 

Though intended 
for boys, it will be 
fully as attractive to 
such of their elders 
as cannot get at 
Hakluyt. There is 
more adventure in 
the volume than will 
be found in a whole 
library of fiction. — 
N. Y. Sun. 




Queen EliznbeiJt s iiisi to Drake's SJiip 



CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



12 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



IRew miuetrateb ISoofte for tbe l^oung 



SIDNEY AT COLLEGE 

By ANNA CHAPIN RAY 

The fourth volume in the popular "Sidney " Series, 
for girls, 12 to 16, finds Sidney a freshman at Smith 
College. Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. 
121110. $1.^0. 

ROVER. THE FARM DOG 

By LILY F. WESSELHOEFT 

A capital story of the happy days of two country 
children on a farm, for children 8 to 12. Illustra- 
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A CHRISTMAS FEAST OF OLDEN TIME. 



ST. NICHOLAS 



Vol. XXXVI 



DECEMBER, 1908 



No. 2 



THE SPRING CLEANING 

(As told by Queen CrosspaicK) 

BY FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT 



It is just flic hundreds and thousands of things I 
have to do for people like the Racketty-Packetty 
House dolls and Winnie and the Rooks and the 
Cozy Lion that makes it impossible for me to at- 
tend to my literary zvork. Of course nothing ever 
would get told if I did n't tell it, and hozv is a 
person to find time for stories when she zvorks 
seventy-five hours a day. You may say that 
,-there are not seventy-five hours in a day, but I 
know better. I work seventy- five hours every 
day zvhether they arc there or not. 

Of course you don't understand what I mean by 
my Spring Cleaning. That is because you know 
next to nothing about Fairy ways. 1 suppose 
you think that Spring comes just because April 
comes and you imagine I have nothing to do with 
it. There 's where you are mistaken. April 
might come and stay for a year and nothing 
would happen if / did not set things going. In 
the Autumn I put everything to bed and in the 
Spring I and my Green Workers waken every- 
thing up — and a nice time we have of it. After 
it is all over my Green Workers are so tired I let 
them go to sleep for a month. 

Last Spring was a very tiresome one. It was 
so slow and obstinate that there were days when 
I thought I would n't have any Spring at all and 
would just begin with Summer. I have done it 
before and I '11 do it again if I 'm aggravated. 

I would have done it then but for Bunch. 
Bunch was the little girl who lived at the vicar- 
age and she was called Bunch because when she 

Copyright, 1908, by The Cen 



was a very fat baby with a great many short 
frilly petticoats sticking out all round her short 
legs, she was so cozy and good-tempered that 
some one said she was nothing but a bunch of 
sweetness, and very soon every one called her 
Bunch. She was eight years old, and she was 
little, and chubby, and funny, but she was always 
laughing, or had just stopped laughing, or was 
just going to begin to laugh, and that 's the kind 
of child I like — it 's the kind Fairies always 
like — Green Workers and all. Her father was 
the vicar of a very old church in a very old Eng- 
lish village where a good many poor people lived, 
and all the cottagers liked her. Old Mrs. Wig- 
gles, who was bedridden, always stopped grumb- 
ling when Bunch came to see her, and old Daddy 
Dimp, who was almost stone deaf, always put his 
hand behind his ear and bent down sideways so 
that she could stand on tiptoe and shout out to him : 

"How are your rheumatics to-day, Daddy? 
I 've brought you a screw of tobacco." 

Because she never had more than a halfpenny 
.she could not bring him more than a ha'porth 
screwed up in a bit of paper, but I can tell you 
he did like it and he used to chuckle, and grin, 
and rub his old hands and say. 

"Thank 'ee, Miss. 'Ere 's a bit o' comfort," 
and he would be as pleased as Punch. 

Bunch was rather like the cheerful dolls in 
Racketty-Packetty House. For instance, she was 
never the least bit cross or unhappy because she 
never had a new hat in the Summer, but always 
had to have her old leghorn one pressed out and 

TURY Co. All rights reserved. 
99 



100 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



[Dec, 



never knew what was going to be put on it by 
way of trimming. Sometimes it was a piece of 
second-hand ribbon her Aunt Jinny had worn the 




dress. The time Aunt Jinny had given her 
mother a piece of a blue silk party frock just 
big enough to cover the hat all over and leave 
something for rosettes, I can tell you Bunch ivas 
grand and the little Bensons were so delighted 
that they whispered to each other, and Jack Ben- 
son even winked at her over the top of their pew. 
Three-year-old Billie Benson, who had been 
brought to church for the first time, actually 
clapped his hands and spoke out loud : 

"Bunchy boofle boo hat!" he said, and he was 
only stopped by his eldest sister Janey seizing his 
hand and saying into his ear in a hollow whisper : 

"People never speak in church ! They never 
do ! They '11 think you are a baby." 

I am telling you about the hat because it will 
show you how little money Bunch had and how 
if she did anything for poor people she had to 
do it without spending anything, and I and my 
Green Workers had to help her. That was how 
it happened that my Spring Cleaning was so im- 
portant that year. 

At the back of the vicarage garden there was a 
place which was so lovely in the Springtime that 



I AND MY GKKEN WORKERS WAKEN EVERYTHING UI'. 



year before, and sometimes it was a wreath of 
rather shabby flowers her mama found in an old 
box and straightened the leaves of, and once it 
was a bunch of cherries and some lace which had 
been her grandmama's dress cap. But Bunch 
used always to say, "Well it is a nice one this 
year, is n't it?" and go to church and sit in the 
vicarage pew as cheerfully as if the little chil- 
dren from the Hall, whose pew was next to hers, 
were not as grand as could be in their embroid- 
ered frocks and hats with white plumes and 
fresh carnations, or daisies, or roses. The httle 
Bensons — who were the Hall children — loved her 
and her hat and were always so excited on the 
Sunday when the new trimming appeared that 
they could n't sit still on their seats and wriggled 
shamefully. If they had not had a nice govern- 
ess they would have been frowned at during the 
service and scolded on the way home and perhaps 
not allowed to have any pudding, at least two 
Sundays in a year— the Sunday when Bunch's 
hat came to church in its Summer trimmings and when you saw it first you simply could not bear 
the Sunday when it came out disguised for Win- to stand still. Bunch called it the Primrose 
ter, either with steamed and cleaned velvet bows, World. It was a softly sloping hill with a run- 
or covered with a breadth of a relation's old silk ning stream at its foot and a wood at the other 




now ARE YOUR RHEUMATICS TO-DAV, DADDY 



igoS.] 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



101 



side of the stream, and in ]\Iarch and April it 
blossomed out into millions of primroses— not 
thousands, but millions— and it was all one carpet 



,\,. 



.{ L-*1 



r 1 







THE PRIMROSE WORLD. 



of pale yellow flowers from top to bottom. 
Never was anything so beautiful. You could 
go out with a basket and pick, and pick, and 
pick, and carry your basket home and bring 
back another one and pick, and pick, and pick, 
and you could bring all your friends and 
pick, and pick, and pick, and you could 
get your little spades and dig up clumps, 
and dig up clumps, and dig up clumps, and plant 
them in your own garden, or your friends' gar- 
dens and still the Primrose World would look as 
if no one had ever touched it and the carpet of 
pale yellow blossoms would be as thick and won- 
derful as ever. 

Now it happened that year that the Primrose 
World was more important to Bunch than it had 
ever been before. As soon as the thick yellow 
carpet was spread she was going to have a party 
— a Primrose party. Just let me tell you about 
it. There is a day in England which is called 
Primrose Day in memory of a great man whose 
favorite flower was the primrose. On that day 
people go about with bunches of primroses on 
their dresses, and even horses have primroses 
decorating their ears. The great man's statue is 



hung and wreathed and piled about with prim- 
roses, and primroses are carried everywhere. 
Tons of them must be brought to Covent Garden 
Flower Market, and all the street corner flower 
sellers sit with their baskets full to sell to pass- 
ers-by. 

It happened that the year before last Bunch 
was taken to London by her Aunt Jinny. The 
hat was done up and Aunt Jinny put some real 
primroses in it for fun, and Bunch carried a 
large primrose bouquet in her hand, and had 
some pinned on her coat. I myself — Queen 
Crosspatch — went with her on the bouquet be- 
cause I thought she might need a Fairy. 

She enjoyed herself very much. 

"It looks as if the Primrose World had taken 
a ticket at the station and come to London for a 
holiday," she said. 

She and Aunt Jinny did ever so many nice 
things, but my business is just to tell you about 
the one thing that happened that made the Spring 
Cleaning so important. 

It was a rather cold and windy English Spring 
day and as we were waiting for a penny 'bus. 




suddenly a torn, shabby, old straw hat came fly- 
ing across the street and danced about on the 
pavement. 

"There 's a hat!" Bunch cried out. "The wind 



102 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



[Dec, 



has blown it off some little girl's head," and she 
bounced forward and picked it up before it could 
get away again. 

"I wonder who it belongs to," said Bunch. 

"Look across the street," I whispered to her. 
She was one of the children who can hear Fairies 
speaking though they don't know they hear them. 
They imagine that a Fairy's voice is their own 
thoughts. 

She looked across the street, which was 
crowded with people, and cabs, and carriages, 
and omnibuses, and there on the other side was a 
thin, bare-headed little flower girl looking up and 
down and everywhere for her hat. She looked 
so worried and unhappy that Bunch said : 

"Oh ! I do wish a Fairy would take me across 
the street to her !" 

That minute I made the big policeman hold up 
liis hand and the omnibuses, and carts, and car- 
riages, and cabs, all stopped as if a giant had or- 
dered them to do it, and Bunch and Aunt Jinny 
skurried across with the rest of the people, and 




" ALL THE STREET CORNER FLOWER SELLERS SIT 
WITH THEIR BASKETS FULL." 

of course I went over on the biggest primrose 
in the bouquet. 

The thin little flower girl was looking all about, 
and tears had come into her eyes. She was a 
forlorn looking child and had a battered basket 



on her arm with a few shabby bunches of prim- 
roses. in it which were as forlorn as herself. 

Bunch ran to her quite out of breath with 
hurry. 

"Here 's your hat," she cried out. "The wind 
carried it across the street and I picked it up." 




i| A n :^ . i • " f» D y 

"'THERE 'S A hat!' BUNCH CRIED OUT." 

The thin little girl looked as delighted as if it 
had been as beautiful as Janey Benson's hat with 
the long ostrich feather. 

"Oh, my! I am glad!" she said. "Thank yer, 
Miss." 

"Look at her shabby primroses," I whispered 
in Bunch's ear, and she looked and saw she had 
only a few little wilted miserable bouquets. 

"Do you sell primroses for a living?" she asked 
the flower girl. 
, "Yes, Miss." 

"You have n't many, have you?" said Bunch. 

"They was dear, this year. Miss, 'cos the 
Spring is so late. These was all I could get an' 
nobody wants to buy them. I 've not 'ad no luck." 

Bunch put her big fresh bouquet into the bas- 
ket, and unpinned those on her coat, and whisked 
those out of her hat in a minute. 

"These are nice ones," she said. "Sell them. 
They came out of my Primrose World." 

The thin little flower girl was so glad she 
could scarcely speak, and that instant I beckoned 



I908.] 



THE SPRINCz CLEANING 



103 



to a gentleman who was passing by. He did not 
know that a Fairy— and Queen Crosspatch at 
that — had beckoned to him, but he stopped and 
spoke. 

"Hello!" he said. "Those look as if they came 
from the country. I '11 take them all." 

"They came from the Primrose World," Bunch 
said. "Thank you for buying them." 

"The Primrose World ?" he said. I could see 
he was a nice man. "There must be Fairies 
there." And he picked up the flowers and after 
he had looked from Bunch to the thin little 
flower girl, and from the thin little flower girl 
to Bunch, he actually threw into the basket a 
whole five shilling piece, which was about five 
times as much as they were worth. I flew on to 
his shoulder and told him 
he must do it. 

The thin little flower girl 
stared at Bunch as if she 
thought she was a Fairy. 

"Miss!" she gasped. "Is 
that Primrose World true?" 

Then I whispered in 
Bunch's ear and she caught 
hold of Aunt Jinny's coat 
She imagined she had a new 
thought of her own— but / 
had made her think it. 

"Aunt Jinny," she said in 
great excitement, "next year 
when the Primrose World is 
all out, could n't this little 
girl come to the vicarage, 
and could n't we go and pick, 
and pick, and pick, and 
could n't the Bensons come 
and help us to pick, and pick, 
and pick, and could n't the 
village children come and 
pick, and pick, and pick, 

imtil she had as many primroses as ever anybody 
could sell ?" She was a sudden child, and she 
whirled round to the flower girl again. 

"What 's your name ?" she asked. 

"Jane Ann Biggs," the girl answered. 

"Could n't she— could n't we — could n't they. Aunt 
Jinny?" cried Bunch. "Would n't father let us?" 

Aunt Jinny laughed as she often laughed at 
Bunch. "We '11 take Jane Ann Biggs's address 
and talk it over when we go home," she answered. 

And that was the beginning of the Primrose 
party. Of course I was the person who talked it 
over with the vicar and his wife, though they 
could neither see me nor hear my voice. / ar- 
ranged it all. The next year, the day before 
Primrose Day, Jane Ann Biggs was to come down 



from London very early in the morning, and as 
many primroses as could be picked were to be 
sent back with her in a hamper so that she would 
have enough to make shillings, and shillings, and 
shillings by selling them. 

The little Bensons nearly danced their legs off 
with joy at the thought of the fun they were go- 




THOSE LOOK AS IF THEY CAME FROM THE COUNTRY, HE SAIU. 

ing to have, and the fun the thin little flower girl 
was going to have. The village children who werp 
asked to help could think of nothing else, until a 
great many of them actually forgot their multi- 
plication tables and said that twice four was 
twenty-two, and things like that. As to Bunch, 
she dreamed of the Primrose party three nights 
a week and she cheered up old Mrs. Wiggles and 
Daddy Dimp by telling them about it until they 
forgot to think of their legs and backs and felt 
quite young and sprightly. 

"Bless us! Bless us! Bless us!" they said, in 
the most joyful manner. And Daddy Dimp even 
said that he believed "come Springtime ' he 
would "go and take a pick himself, same as if he 
was n't more than seventy." 



104 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



You can just see how important it was that my 
Spring Cleaning should be done and all the Prim- 
rose World be in bloom the day before Primrose 
Day so th at everything would be ready for the party. 

I began to be anxious and watch things almost 
as soon as Christmas was over. I called all my 
Green Workers together and gave them a good 
talking to. 




FAUiY QUEHN (HOSM'AH II AND THE 
REVEREND CAWKEK ROOK. 

"Now," I said, "You must get new frost 
brooms and have your tools sharpened and your 
luggers in order, and be ready at a moment's no- 
tice. There is to be no loitering this year and 
no saying that your brooms are worn out, or 
your tuggers want mending." (A tugger is a 
little green rope the Green Workers tug at the 
slow flowers with when they won't come up. 
The Green Workers have a great many tools hu- 
man beings don't know anything about. Mine 
have a flower opener which I could recommend 
to any Fairy.) 

But that Spring zvas stubborn and slow. I 
thought it would never come. Snow kept falling 
when it had no right to fall, and the Frost Imps 
had added millions to their Standing Army and 
they would not stop working in the night. But 
one morning in March when they had spread out 
a frost I felt sure it was late enough to be the 
very last one and I knew there was no time to 
lose— not a minute. So I called out my Green 
Workers with their brooms. 



"Begin the Spring Cleaning at once," I or- 
dered. "Sweep every particle of frost off the 
grass and all the evergreens, and polish up the 
shrubs and trees. If there are any bits of ice on 
the twigs where buds may be thinking of pushing 
through, be sure to knock them off. Go round to 
all the violets and crocuses and daffodils and 
knock at their doors. Call the dormice and don't 
let them roll up into balls and go to sleep again. 
Tell them I won't have it. Summon the birds 
and let them know that T expect all the nests to 
be built with the modern improvements." 

They flew off in flocks so fast that they made 
a whizzing sound in the air. Then I flew over 
the fields to the very oldest elm-tree and called 
on the Reverend Cawker Rook. Of course I 
found him sitting huddled up on a top branch, 
dozing", with his head sunk on his shoulder. 

"Is your surplice clean?" I shouted out. "And 
where is your book ?" 

He shuffled and blinked and winked sleepily. 

"Eh! Eh! Eh !"' he stuttered. "You do startle 
a person so with your sudden ways!" 

"Eh! Eh! Eh!" I answered. "If you would 
be a little sudden yourself now and then, business 
would be better attended to. I have begun my 
Spring Cleaning and it is time for you to prepare 
for the bird weddings." 

He is a slow old thing but I stirred him up 
and left him fumbling about in the hole in the 
tree where he kept his surplice and his prayer- 
book. 

I stirred everything up that day— flower roots 
and trees and birds and dormice and by after- 
noon the Green Workers had swept off all the 
frost, until everything was as neat as could be. 
I put on my cap and apron and helped them my- 
self. When the day was over I was glad enough to 
tuck myself up in my moss bed in my winter 
palace under the rose garden, and I slept till 
morning without once turning over. 

When daylight came and I got up and put on 
my field-mouse fur coat and hood and gloves, 
and went outside, what do you suppose had hap- 
pened ! The Frost Imps had brought their army 
out again and had been working all night, and 
things were worse than ever. The grass was 
white and glittering, the dormice had rolled 
themselves up into balls and gone to sleep again, 
the gentlemen and lady birds were turning their 
backs on one another, and the Reverend Cawker 
Rook had shuffled his book and his surplice back 
into the hole in the tree trunk and he was hud- 
dled up on the topmost branch, dozing, with his 
head sunk in his shoulders. 

"I shall lose my temper in a minute," I said. 



(To be co}ichtdcd.) 





So when Jack's Christmas pie was made, 

They made three others, too — 
One for James, and one for George, 

And a little one for Hugh. 
And they sat up in corners, 

As they 'd seen Jackie do- 
James and George and the littlest one, 

The one whose name was Hugh. 

I 'm sure 't was very lucky 

(Does it not seem so to you?) 
That the room had just four corners 



For 



For if Jackie had a corner, 

There must be corners, too, 
For James and George and the littlest one. 

The one whose name was Hugh. 




'^^"-^^^--- 




MONARCHS OF THE ICE-FLOES 



BY FRANK STICK 




Since the be- 
ginningof time, 
there probably 
has been en- 
mity between 
the polar bear 
and the walrus. 
Except for the 
walrus, Bruin's 
reign over the 
arctic regions 
has been al- 
most unchal- 
lenged since 
the race of 
mammoths passed. All the hardy flesh-eaters 
that inhabit the bleak, unfertile northland are 
his natural prey. But most of all he depends 
upon the seals and sea-lions for his food. 
There is only one animal that is powerful 
enough to defend itself and offspring against 
the polar bear's attack — the huge and cumbrous 
walrus ; but its movements are so slow and awk- 
ward when out of the water that often it is im- 
possible for the bulky animal to retard the swift 
attack and retreat of its smaller opponent. 

The}- are both brave and fearless animals, 
however, eager in defense of their cubs and pup- 
pies; and often when Bruin is out-flanked, or 
when the bears hunt in pairs, fierce battles rage 
over the capture of a young walrus. 



•k: (V 




A full-grown walrus will weigh as much as 
two thousand pounds ; a mountainous mass of 
muscle and blubber. He is armed with tusks of 
ivory, sometimes two feet in length, and when 



from his upreared bulk these formidable weapons 
are plunged downward upon an enemy, they are 
as resistless as the drop of a guillotine. Such a 
thick layer of blubber lies under the skin that he 
is practically clad in an armor impervious to teeth 
and claws alike. So, unless the bear is greatly 
favored by luck, he has little chance to overthrow 
his antagonist. 

The walrus's tusks have other humbler and 
far more valuable uses than those they are put to 
in warfare. With these useful implements the 
walrus delves into the mud and sand of the 
ocean's bed in search of the crustaceans, sea- 
weeds and other deep-water foods that go to 
form his diet. Hooked over the edge of the ice 
they aid him materially in scrambling onto the 
floes and ice-packs. Stories are told of boats 
being overturned by these same tusks when the 
occupants were foolhardy enough to attack the 
droves of walrus during their migration. All in 
all they are good-natured enough if left in peace, 
but most dangerous antagonists when aroused. 

Time was when they were almost as numerous 
as seals in the far north. Walrus blubber was 
the principal diet of many tribes of Eskimos for 
years and years, — until trade was opened up 
with the white man, in fact, when they were 
killed by hundreds on their breeding grounds, not 
for food, but only because of the ivory tusks, 
and the valuable oil extracted from the blubber. 

Only a few winters ago an entire tribe of Es- 
kimos passed out of existence, when the droves 
of walrus on which they had always depended 
for their sustenance through the long p'olar night 
failed to appear in their usual migration. 

The big rookeries or gathering places have al- 
most entirely disappeared, and it may be only a 
few years ere the walrus, as well as the bison, 
shall become practically an animal of the past. 

The polar bear, more adaptable and with a 
deeper cunning, stands in less danger of extinc- 
tion, but he will be hunted unceasingly as long as 
his beautiful robe is in general demand for rugs 
and garments. Next to the grizzlies these bears 
of the arctic are the most powerful and the 
fiercest of their family. They hibernate at the 
beginning of winter, burrowing deep under the 
snow, where the heat from their bodies hol- 
lows out a small grotto. There is plenty of rich 
eating to be had in the spring, however ; droves 
of seals and huge flocks of wild fowl, as the 
bears feed upon young penguins and ducks. 



1 06 




'4 f » >i |\ ^ < '* * *\ '- 



MONARCHS OF THE ICE-FLOES. 
107 



[■ 




eiG^ULC^IDG 



^URA ALT ON' PAVNE S-Wr 




Ss^ 




^: 



Yuloita — or " I'/;/t' Lights'^ — is a heaiitljul Chri\t 
iuas festivity in Siveden. A t three o^ clock on Christmas 
viorjiing roivs of candles are lighted in every luindoiu in 
each divelliiig-hottse and church. At foitr d clocks torch- 
hearing throjtgs luend front vale and inonnfciiil to the z'il- 
lage church, bright with its Christmas decorations, 
ii'here they listen to the same sendee heard in every vil- 
lage iji Sweden and every Siuedish colony in A vierica, 
]\ hen the dells, which have rung for half an /tour, cease, 
the co)igregatio7t arises andbreaks into the old, old Siued- 
ish hymit, ^^ All hail to thee, O Idessed ntorn / " Then the 
pastor preaches front the text used at every \ 'ttle Ligiits 
celehratioJt for three hjtndred years : '^ The people titat 
have walhed itt darkness have seen a great light : . . . 
upon thejn hatlt the light shined. For unto tts a child is 
horn; tinto us a son is given — t/te Prince of PeaceS' 

There borders on the Baltic Sea 

A rugged land and cold, 
Where Sweden's soil has nurtured long 

A hardy race and bold ; 
Warm hearts are theirs, and simple faith 

In king's or custom's rule. 
And dear to them from ancient days 

The blessed lights of Yule. 

At three o'clock on Christmas morn, 
On mount and in the vale, 

At every window in each house 
A row of candles pale — 

Wee sentinels of Christmas Day- 
Burst into golden flame. 

And flash their herald-lights afar 
In honor of His name. 



IN SWEDEN: "AT THREE O'CLOCK ON CHRISTMAS MORN, ON MOUNT AND IN THE VALE." 




IN AMERICA: "FOR MILES ACROSS THE SNOW FLASH MYRIAD MELLOW CANDLE-LIGHTS. 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR 



Chapter III 

AN INVITATION TO MISS EMERY 

Two days later three boys were seated about an 
up-stairs room in a house in West Fifty-seventh 
Street, New York City. The room was large and 
square and tastefully furnished, but you would 
have guessed at once that it was a boy's room ; 
and the guess would have been correct. Roy Por- 
ter was the host, and his guests were Thomas H. 
Eaton, otherwise well known as "Chub," and 
Richard Somes, better known as Dick. Dick, as 
we have learned through his letter, has just gradu- 
ated from Ferry Hill School, and for the present 



two other places. His father is a mining man 
whose business of buying, selling, and operating 
mines takes him to many places. Dick's mother 
has been dead for three years. 

Dick himself is big, blond, and seventeen. He 
is n't exactly handsome, judged by accepted 
standards of masculine beauty, but he has nice 
gray eyes, a smile that wins you at once, and a 
pleasant voice. Somehow, in spite of the fact 
that nature has endowed him with a miscellaneous 
lot of features he is rather attractive; as Chub 
has once remarked: "He 's just about as homely 
as a hedge fence, only somehow you forget all 
about it." It is the crowning sorrow of Dick's 




WRITIi\G THE INVITATION TO HARRY. 



is staying with his father at a New York hotel. 
While Roy lives in New York, and Chub hails 
from Pittsburg, Dick claims the distinction of liv- 
ing nowhere in particular. If you ask him he 
will tell you that he lives "out West." As a mat- 
ter of fact, however, he is a nomad. Born in 
Ohio, he has successively resided in Nebraska, 
Montana, Colorado, Nevada, London, and one or 



young life that, owing to his nomadic existence, 
his schooling has been somewhat neglected, with 
the result that he is a year behind his two friends 
and that when he reaches college in the fall — if 
he 's lucky enough to get in — he will be only a 
freshman, while Roy and Chub are dignified and 
superior sophomores. Chub, however, tells him 
not to worry, as he may not pass the exams ! 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



111 



Chub is staying with Roy, as his guest, and 
Dick has taken dinner with them this evening. 
And now, having left Mr. Porter to his paper in 
the Hbrary and Mrs. Porter to her book, they 
have scurried up to Roy's room for a good long 
talk ; for there is much to be said. At the present 
moment Roy, sprawled on his bed, is doing the 
talking. 

"It was Chub's scheme in the first place, Dick. 
He thought of it two months ago when we were 
down by the river one day. There 's an old boat- 
house on a raft down there, and Chub said it re- 
minded him of the Jolly Roger. I said I did n't 
see the resemblance, and he said all you had to do 
was to turn it around and it would be just like 
the Jolly Roger." 

"Turn it around?" asked Dick, mystified. 

"Sure," said Chub. "Turn a boat-house around 
and you have a house-boat. See?" 

"College has n't taught you much sense. Chub, 
has it ?" laughed Dick. "Then what, Roy ?" 

"Oh, then Chub got to talking about what fun 
Mr. Cole must have in his house-boat and how 
he 'd like to go knocking around in one. And 
then we remembered that Mr. Cole had told us 
last summer that the Jolly Roger was for sale. Of 
course, we knew we could n't buy it, but we 
thought maybe he 'd be willing to rent it for the 
summer. And, finally, a week or so ago, we wrote 
him — " 

"Wef" queried Chub. 

"Well, then, you wrote him, Chubbie, my boy; 
but I supplied the stamp. And yesterday— no, the 
day before yesterday— we got his note ; and to- 
morrow we 're all going to call at his studio and 
find out how much he wants for it for the summer." 

"Great!" cried Dick enthusiastically. "And 
where are we going in it ?" 

"I thought it would be fun to go down Long 
Island Sound, but Chub wants to go up the river." 

"Up the Hudson? That would be scrumptious ! 
We could go away up to — to Buffalo — " 

"Yes, we 'd get there about November," 
laughed Chub. "The Jolly Roger goes about as 
fast as — as a mule walks!" 

"I '11 wager Dick really thinks Buffalo is on 
the Hudson," said Roy. 

"Is n't it?" asked Dick in surprise. "Up on the 
head-waters, somewhere ? Well, where is it, then ?" 

"It — it 's on — you tell him, Roy." 

"It 's on a lake." 

"It 's on Niagara Falls," added Chub know- 
ingly. "Bounded on the north by Canada, on the 
east by the St. Lawrence River, on the south by 
the United States of America, and on the west by 
— by water. Its principal exports are buffaloes 
and— and— " 



"Oh, shucks!" said Roy. "Anyhow, we could 
go up as far as Albany and Troy—" 

"And we could stop for a while at Ferry Hill 
and see the school and the Doctor and Mrs. Em. 
and Harry—" 

"What I want to know—" began Dick. 

"And we could stay at Fox Island a day or two. 
It would be like old times." 

"You mean Harry's Island," corrected Dick. 
"What I want to know, though, is whether we 
can take Harry along." 

"Chub thinks we can," answered Roy; "but I 
don't see how we could manage it." 

"Easy. enough," said Chub. "There are three 
rooms we can use for sleeping. Harry and her 
mother, or whoever came along with her, could 
have the big room up front and we would take 
the little room at the rear, the one Mr. Cole used 
as a studio." 

"It 's only as big as a piece of cheese," said 
Dick. 

"Well, we would only want to sleep in it. We 
would be out on deck or ashore nearly all the 
time and we would all have the living-room. 
We 'd need some cot-beds — there 's a fine bed in 
the bedroom now, you know — and some sheets 
and blankets and things. Pshaw, we could fix it 
up easy !" 

"Well, she 's crazy to go," said Dick ; "and she 
made me promise to ask you chaps." 

"When does she go away to her aunt's?" asked 
Roy. 

"The day after to-morrow; and she 's going to 
stay two weeks. That is, if she can come with us. 
If not she 'U stay three, I believe. Did you write 
to her, Roy?" 

"Not yet," Roy answered. "I thought we 'd get 
together and talk it over. If you fellows think 
we can make them comfortable, she would be 
glad to come, I know. Her father or mother 
would arrange to go along." 

"Let 's ask her," said Dick eagerly. 

"Sure," said Chub. "Let 's write to her now. 
Where are your paper and things, Roy?" 

"They 're not far away," said Roy. "Here 
you are 



I" 



They all had a hand in the composition of that 
letter, and when finished and signed it ran thus : 
Miss Harriet Emery, 

Ferry Hill School, 
Ferry Hill, N. Y. 
Dear Miss Emery: You are cordially invited to join 
us in a cruise up the Hudson River in the good ship Jolly 
Roger, which will call for you at Ferry Hill in about three 
weeks, the exact date to be decided on later. Please bring 
your doughnut recipe, and any one else you want to. Come 
prepared for a good time. AH principal foreign ports will 
be visited, including Troy, Athens, Cairo, and Schenectady. 
The catering will be in the hands of that world-renowned 




THE BOYS 1-0L:.\U THEMSELVES IN A GREAT STUDIO.' (see page i 



IS- 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



113 



chef, Mr. Dickums Somes, formerly of Camp Torohadik, 
Harry's Island. Kindly reply as soon as possible. 

Trusting and hoping that you will consent to grace the 
house-boat with your charming presence, we subscribe our- 
selves your devoted servants, 

Chub, Master. 

Roy, a. B. 

Dick, Steward. 

"What 's A.B. mean?" asked Roy, suspiciously. 

"It means Able Seaman," replied Chub. "I put 
it that way because it "s probably the only chance 
you '11 ever have of getting your A.B." 

"You don't suppose, do you," asked Dick anx- 
iously, "that she '11 take that literally: about 
bringing any one else she wants to ? She might 
think we meant her Aunt Harriet and perhaps 
somebody else as well." 

"Maybe we 'd better change that a little," agreed 
Roy. 

"Well, we '11 say 'Bring your doughnut recipe 
and any other one person you want to. How 's 
that?" 

"All right; although, of course, a doughnut 
recipe is n't a person." 

"Oh, is n't it? I meant that for just a joke," 
laughed Chub, — "and Harry has more discern- 
ment than some others I wot of," he added loftily. 

"Well, if she wots that that 's a joke," muttered 
Dick, "she 's certainly a pretty good wotter." 

"Who 's got a stamp ?" asked Chub as he fin- 
ished scrawling the address on the envelop. 
"Thanks. What a very unpleasant taste it has ! 
I wonder why the government does n't flavor its 
stamps better. It might turn them out in differ- 
ent flavors, you know : peppermint, vanilla, win- 
tergreen, chocolate — " 

"Almond," suggested Roy. 

"And then when you went to the post-ofiice 
you could say: T 'd like ten twos, please; pepper- 
mint, if you have it.' " 

"You 're a cheerful ninny," laughed Dick. 
"Give me the letter and I '11 post it on the way 
to the hotel. Now, let 's talk about what we '11 
have to buy. Let 's figure up and see what it 
will really cost us." 

"Go ahead," said Chub readily. "I 've a pad 
and pencil here." 

"First of all, then, we '11 need a lot of provi- 
sions." 

"Unless we can persuade Chub to stay behind," 
suggested Roy. 

"Who thought of this scheme?" asked Chub in- 
dignantly. "I think if any one stays behind it 
won't be Chub. And likewise and moreover if 
Chub does n't have enough to eat, I warn you 
now that -Chub will mutiny." 

"Then you '11 have to put yourself in irons," 
said Dick, "if you 're in command." 
Vol. XXXVI. -1 5. 



"I never thought of that !" Chub bit the end 
of the pencil and frowned. "Maybe I 'd rather be 
the crew than the captain. If you 're captain you 
can't mutiny, and I 've always wanted to mutiny. 
Is n't it too bad that we can't be pirates and 
scuttle a few boats ?" 

"How do you scuttle a boat?" asked Dick curi- 
ously. 

Chub for a moment was at a loss, and glanced 
doubtfully at Roy. But finding no assistance 
there he plunged bravely. 

"Well, you first get a scuttle, just an ordinary 
scuttle, you know ; and I think you have to have a 
coal-shovel, too, but I 'm not quite certain about 
that. Armed with the scuttle you descend to the 
—the cellar of the ship — " 

"And bore holes in the bottom with a scuttle !" 
said Roy contemptuously. "I 'm not going to 
ship under a captain who does n't know the rudi- 
ments of navigation." 

"I 'm not talking navigation," said Chub with 
dignity. "I 'm talking piracy. Piracy is a much 
more advanced study. Anybody can navigate, but 
good pirates are few and far between, these days." 

"Well, is n't it time we began to talk sense?" 
begged Dick. "How much will it cost for pro- 
visions?" 

"Well, let me see," responded Chub, turning to 
his paper. "I suppose about two cases of eggs— 
But, look here, we have n't decided how long 
we 're going to cruise." 

"A month," said Roy. 

"Two months," said Dick. "Anyway, we can't 
buy enough eggs at the start to last us all the 
tiine. Eggs should be fresh." 

"We '11 get eggs and vegetables as we go 
along," said Roy. "What we have to have to start 
with are staples." 

"Mighty hard eating," murmured Chub. "Why 
not use plain nails ?" 

This was treated by the others with contemp- 
tuous silence. 

"We '11 need flour, coffee, tea, salt, rice, 
cheese — " 

"Pepper," interpolated Dick. 

"Baking-powder, sugar, flavoring extracts—" 

"Mustard," proposed Chub, "for mustard plas- 
ters, you know." 

"And lots of things like that," ended Roy tri- 
umphantly. 

"What we need is a grocery," sighed Chub. 
"Are n't we going to have any meat at all? I 
have a very delicate stomach, fellows, and the 
doctor insists on meat three times a day. Per- 
sonally, I don't care for it much ; I 'm a vegetarian 
by conviction and early training; but one can't 
go against the doctor's orders, you know. Now, 



114 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



[Dec, 



for breakfast I should wish, say, a small rasher 
of bacon — " 

"What 's a rasher ?" Roy demanded. 

"For luncheon a — er— two or three simple little 
chops, and for dinner a small roast of beef or 
lamb or a friendly steak. Those, with a few 
vegetables and an occasional egg, suffice my sim- 
ple needs. I might mention, however, that a 
suggestion of sweet, such as a plum-pudding, a 
mince-pie, or a dish of ice-cream, has always 
seemed to me a proper topping-off to a meal, if I 
may use the expression." 

"You may use any expression you like," an- 
swered Roy cruelly, "but if you think we 're go- 
ing to have roasts you '11 have to find another 
crew and another cook. Why, that kitchen—" 

"Galley," corrected Chub helpfully. 

"It 's too small for anything bigger than a 
French chop !" 

"When Chub gets very, very hungry," observed 
Dick, "we might tie up to the shore and cook him 
something over a fire ; have a barbecue, you 
know." 

"Cook a whole ox for him," laughed Roy. 

"You stop bothering about me," said Chub 
scornfully, "and study seamanship. Remember 
you 're to be an able seaman, and if you don't 
come up to the standard for able seamen I '11 do 
things to you with a belaying-pin." 

"Is n't he the cruel-hearted captain?" asked 
Dick. "I don't believe I want to ship with 
him." 

"Oh, you '11 be all right. Chub won't dare to 
touch you for fear he won't get his dinner." 

"There you go again !" Chub groaned. "You 
fellows simply talk a subject to death. Your con- 
versation lacks— lacks variety, diversity. If you 
are quite through vilifying me — " 

"Does n't he use lovely language?" murmured 
Roy in an aside to Dick. 

"We will now proceed with our estimate," con- 
cluded Chub. "As I was saying, eggs — " 

"I tell you what we might use," interrupted 
Dick. "Have you ever seen powdered egg?" 

"Is this a jest?" asked Chub darkly. 

"No, really ! You buy it in cans. It 's eggs, 
just the yolks, you know, with all the moisture 
taken out of them. It 's a yellow powder. And 
when you want an omelet you just mix some milk 
with it and stir it up and there you are !" 

But Chub was suspicious. 

"And how do you make a fried egg out of it," 
he asked. 

"You can't, of course, because the whites 
are n't there; but — " 

"Then we want none of it! If I can't have 
real eggs I '11 starve like a gentleman." 



"Leave the eggs out of it for the present," sug- 
gested Roy. "Let 's figure on the other things." 

"Let 's not," said Dick, rising. "I 'm going 
home. We 've got lots of time to figure. Besides, 
the best way to do is to buy the things and let the 
groceryman do the figuring. We 've got to have 
them, no matter what they cost. What time are 
we going around to see the Floating Artist?" 

"Right after breakfast," answered Chub. "You 
come up at about ten o'clock — " 

"What 's the matter with you fellows coming 
to the hotel and having breakfast with me?" 
asked Dick. 

"Alake it luncheon," begged Chub. 

"All right, then, luncheon. I '11 be around at 
ten in the morning. See if you can at least get 
him up by that time, Roy." 

"With a glance of scathing contempt," mur- 
mured Chub, "our hero turned upon his heel and 
strode rapidly away into the fast-gathering dark- 
ness." 

But where he really strode was down the stairs, 
with one arm over Dick's shoulder, while Roy 
brought up the rear and gently prodded them with 
the toe of his shoe.. 

Chapter IV 

HOUSE-BOAT 

HE preceding summer, 
while camping out on 
Fox Island— or Harry's 
Island, as they called it 
now—, the boys had 
made the acquaintance 
of the Floating Artist. 
He had appeared one 
day in his house-boat, 
the Jolly Roger, in 
which he was cruis- 
ing down the Hudson, 
sketching as he went. 
His real name was 
Forbes Cole, a name of 
much importance in the art world, as the boys 
discovered later on. He had proved an agreeable 
acquaintance, and when camp had been broken 
the three boys, together with Harry Emery, the 
daughter of the school principal, had voyaged 
with him as far as New York. 

Mr. Cole lived in a rather imposing white 
stone house within sight of the Park. The en- 
trance was on the level with the sidewalk. Bay- 
trees in green tubs flanked the door which was 
guarded by a bronze grilling. The three boys 
were admitted by a uniformed butler and con- 




igoS.] 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



115 



ducted into a tiny white-and-gold reception-room. 
As the heavy curtain fell again at the doorway 
after the retreating servant the visitors gazed at 
each other with awed surprise. Chub pretended 
to be fearful of trusting his weight to the slen- 
der chairs, and all three were grinning in a sheep- 
ish way, when the man appeared again, suddenly 
and noiselessly. Down a marble-tiled hall car- 
peted with narrow Oriental rugs in dull colors 
they were led to an elevator. When they were 
inside the butler touched a button and the tiny 
car, white-and-gold like the reception-room, 
shot up past two floors and stopped, apparently 
of its own volition, at the third, and the boys 
emerged to find themselves in a great studio that 
evidently occupied the whole fourth floor of the 
house. 

"Talk about your Arabian Nights !" mur- 
mured Chub in Roy's ear. 

The grating closed quietly behind them, the 
car disappeared and they stood looking about 
them in bewilderment and pleasure. So far 
as they could see the big apartment was empty 
of any persons save themselves, but they could 
not be certain of that for there were shadowy 
recesses where the white light from the big 
skyhghts did not penetrate, and a balcony of 
dark, richly carved oak, screened and curtained, 
stretched across the front end of the studio. 

At the other end a broad fireplace was flanked 
by a tall screen of Spanish leather which glowed 
warmly where tlie light found it. A white bear- 
skin was laid in front of it. Other rugs were 
scattered here and there, queer, low-toned prayer 
rugs many of them, with tattered borders and 
silky sheen. The walls were hung with tapestries 
against which was the dull glitter of armor. 
Strange vessels of pottery and copper and brass 
stood about, and two big, black oak chests, elab-- 
orately carved, half hidden by silken cushions 
and embroideries, guarded the fireplace. There 
was a dais under the skylight, and on it was a 
chair. At a little distance was a big easel holding 
a canvas, and beside it a cabinet for paints and 
brushes. There were few pictures in sight, but 
over the room hung a faint and not unpleasant 
odor of paint and oil and turpentine. 

At one of the broad, low windows — there were 
only two and both were wide open— was a great 
jar of yellow roses. Under the window was a 
wide seat upholstered in green leather and piled 
with cushions. And amidst the cushions, a fact 
only now discerned by the visitors, lay a red set- 
ter viewing them calmly with big brown eyes. 

"It 's Jack," Chub whispered. "I 've met him 
before. He '11 be sure to eat us alive if we stir. 
Little Chub stays right here until help comes." 



But evidently Jack had become interested, for 
he slowly descended from the window-seat and 
came across the room, his tail wagging slowly. 

"We 'd better run," counseled Chub in pre- 
tended terror. 

But the red setter's intentions were apparently 
friendly. He sniffed at Roy and allowed himself 
to be patted. Then he walked around to Dick and 
Chub and completed his investigations, finally be- 
coming quite enthusiastic in his welcome and dig- 
ging his nose into Chub's hand. 

"Glory ! He knows us !" cried Chub, softly and 
delightedly. "The rascal forgets that the first 
time we met he made a face at me and growled. 
Well, all is forgiven, Jack. Where 's your mas- 
ter, sir?" 

"I suppose we might as well sit down," said Roy, 
"instead of standing here like a lot of ninnies." 

"Did you ever see such a place in your life?" 
asked Dick. "It looks like a museum and a pal- 
ace all rolled into one !" 

"My! but I wish I was an artist!" sighed Chub. 
"I wonder what 's on the easel. Do you think 
we could look?" 

"No, I think we '11 go over there and sit down 
and not snoop," answered Roy severely. "Come 
on." 

But at that moment the elevator door rolled 
softly open and with a start the boys turned to 
see their host step out of the car. Forbes Cole 
was one of the biggest men they had ever seen. 
He was well over six feet high and, it seemed, 
more than proportionately broad. He was a fine, 
handsome-looking man with a big head of wavy 
brown hair, kindly, twinkling blue eyes, and a 
brown beardtrimmed to apointunder a strong chin. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said as he 
shook hands all around. "I was just finishing 
breakfast. And how are you all? Let me see, 
this is Roy, is n't it? I remember each one of 
you perfectly, but I have a bad memory for 
names. Chub, though, I recollect very well ; that 
name happens to stick. And this is Dick Somes. 
-Yes, yes, now I 've got you all. Jack seems to 
have remembered you, too. Come over here and 
sit down and tell me what great things have hap- 
pened to you since we parted last year. I suppose 
each one of you has done something fine for your 
school or college. Dear, dear, what a beautiful 
thing it is to be young ! We n'ever realize it un- 
til it 's too late. Now what 's the news ?" 

They perched themselves side by side on the 
broad window-seat and the artist lifted the heavy 
chair from the dais with one hand as though it 
weighed but an ounce and sprawled his great 
body in it. Jack settled back amongst the cush- 
ions with his head on Dick's knee. 



116 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



"I guess there is n't much to tell," said Roy. 
"Chub and I have been at college and Dick here 
is coming up in the fall." 

"If I can pass," muttered Dick. 

"And Miss Harriet? How is she?" asked Mr. 
Cole. 

"Fine," said Dick. "I saw her just the other 
day. We often talk about you, sir, and the good 
times we had on the Jolly Roger." 

"And so you think you 'd like to have more 
good times on it, eh?" laughed the artist in his 
jovial roar. "I wish I could go along, if you 'd 
have me ; but I 'm going abroad after a while. 
But the boat 's yours when you want it, and I 
hope you '11 have the jolhest sort of a time, 
boys." 

"It 's mighty nice of you to want us to have it," 
said Roy. "We '11 take very good care of it, Mr. 
Cole, and—" 

"Oh, don't bother about that," laughed the 
painter. "You know I 've got quite tired of it. 
Besides, it 's well insured and if it happens to go 
to the bottom, why, I sha'n't mind a bit— as long 
as you get out first ! She 's at Loving's Landing, 
if you know where that is; about fifteen miles up 
the river. You '11 find her in good condition, I 
think. I wrote the man day before yesterday to 
begin at once and get her in shape. She needs 
paint, as I wrote you; but I don't believe I want 
to go to the expense of having her done over. 
But if you think you 'd rather have her freshened 
up it won't cost much to have Higgins put on one 
coat for you." 

"I guess she 's all right as she is," said Chub. 
He looked at Roy and that youth took the hint. 

"We were wondering," he began, "how much 
vou 'd want for her for a couple of months, Mr. 
Cole." 

"You can have her all summer for the same 
price," answered the painter with his eyes twink- 
ling. 

"Well, I suppose we could n't cruise for more 
than two months, sir; but of course we realize 
that if we took her we ought to pay for the whole 
time, because it would be too late to rent her 
again after we were through with her, I 'm sure. 
About how much would she be, sir?" 

Mr. Cole looked at them thoughtfully for a 
moment. Finally, 

"Well, I was going to ask you to take her and 
use her rent-free," he answered, "but there 's 
something in Roy's expression that tells me I 'd 
get sat on if I did." He laughed merrily. "Am I 
right?" 

"I hardly think we would sit on you," answered 

{To be CO 



Chub, "but we 'd feel— feel better about it if we 
rented it regularly from you. It 's mighty good 
of you, though." • 

"No, it is n't, Chub. It is n't mighty good 
for any one to be generous when it does n't cost 
him anything. The boat 's of no use to me this 
summer and I should n't rent it under any con- 
ditions—except to you boys. But if you 'd rather 
not take it as a gift, why, I '11 have to put a price 
on it." He thought a moment. "Suppose we say 
fifty dollars for the summer?" 

Chub eyed Roy doubtfully and Roy eyed Dick. 

"That sounds a suspiciously little bit," said 
Roy at last. 

"I don't think so," replied their host. "I doubt 
if the Jolly Roger 's worth much more, fellows. 
I 'm satisfied and I don't see why you should n't 
be. You won't let me do you a favor, although I 
thought we were pretty good friends last sum- 
mer; but, on the other hand, I don't think you 
ought to insist on my driving a hard bargain with 
you. Fifty dollars is my valuation, and there you 
are; I refuse to go up another cent!" 

"In that case," laughed Roy, "I 'm sure we 'd 
better accept your terms, sir. And we 're very 
much obliged." 

"That 's all right, then. I '11 give you a note 
to Higgins; the boat 's in his yard up there; and 
you can take her over as soon as you like and 
keep her as long as you like. That 's settled. 
Now tell me what you 've been doing, the three 
of you. How do you like your college?" 

The boys stayed for another hour and talked 
and were shown over the studio and were invited 
to luncheon. But although Chub frowned and 
nodded his head emphatically, Roy politely de- 
clined. They finally left with the lease of the 
house-boat Jolly Roger in Roy's pocket, promis- 
ing to call again after they had looked over the 
craft. Then they shook hands, entered the ele- 
vator car and were dropped to the street floor. 

On the sidewalk Roy turned to the others. 

"Let 's go up and see the boat this afternoon," 
he said. 

"Let 's go now !" exclaimed Chub with enthu- 
siasm. 

"Can't ; after making up that fifty dollars there- 
is n't enough money in the crowd to pay the car- 
fares. No, we '11 go along with Dick and have 
luncheon. When we get to the hotel we '11 find 
out how to get to Loving's Landing, and then 
we '11 start out right after luncheon. What do 
you say.?" 

Chub and Dick agreed to the plan and the 
three strode off toward Dick's hostelry. 

ntijiued.) 




When I Grow Up 



^, 



By 



A 



d W.W* Denslow § 




COPYRIGHT. 1908, EiY W. W. DENSLOW 



TV\e Pirate 




'Twas little Johnnie's heart's desire 

To be a pirate bold, 
And scuttle ships on Southern trips 

As done in days of old. 



Said John: "I'd sail the Spanish Main, 

The Master of the Seas, 
And hide my loot in coral caves 

Among the Caribbees. 



"We'd board the ship with pike and gun; 

We'd show the crew no quarter, — 
Except in case there was on board 

The Captain's handsome daughter. 



"Then if she'd ask their worthless Hves, 
We'd grant it, if they would 

Salute at once the pirate flag 
And promise to be good. 



"Jewels and plate and * pieces of eight' 
We'd have in goodly stores 

That we had buried at dark midnight , 
On far-oiF island shores." 








THE LITTLE MAID OF HONOR 



BY CAROLYN WELLS 





A LITTLE Maid of Honor was appointed to the Queen ; 
They clad her in brave raiment of 'broidered satin sheen. 
They taught her how to curtsy, and how to stand with grace, 
And all the pretty duties of a Maid of Honor's place. 

Now, just at first her little heart was filled with vague alarms, 
But she stood and gazed a moment at her family coat of arms ; 
For well she knew each quartering, each symbol and design 
Bore witness to the bravery of her ancestral line. 

Yes, courage was her birthright; so, with a stately mien. 

All fearlessly she went into the presence of the Queen. 

For, she thought, "I 'm sure that Fortune can hold no ills or harms 

For a little Maid of Honor with a great big coat of arms!" 



I^-C'^'. 




Vol. XXXVI. -16-17. 




I^AmNG 



AN EARLY MORNING "SPELL. 

The Junior Partner awoke in a most unpleasant 
frame of mind, and when under that spell, he 
was very poor company indeed. Whether it was 
too much pop-corn or kicking off the covers or 
failing to walk up the side wall or whatever — 
there was no telling. But so it was. And Santa 
Claus had been in only a few nights before. In 
fact, it happened just after the New Year began, 
when every one expects to be good for a while 
at least. To make it worse, he vinst have put 
the wrong foot out first. Anyhow, the spell 
was on. And a very bad spell it was. You 
know what that means in a four-and-a-half. 
Boy, too. 

The house was cold and dark. Mother looked 
much too comfortable lying there asleep. So he 
began grumbling to her and made her just as un- 
comfortable as he could. The senior partner was 
fixing the fires. The junior partner must have 
this and he must have that. He must g«; up and 
sit on the cold floor and try to see the letters in 
his game. Then he did not want to put on his 
shoes and stockings. Then the kindergarten was 
horrid and he was n't going to do any more er- 
rands. And he would n't ever speak to Mammy 
or Daddy again. One thing led to another, as it 
does when the spell is on, and finally he found 
himself back in his bed— without a spanking. 

"Now, Pard," said the senior partner, "you 



THL SPllL 



{" Doc for Daddimait''' Sio7-ics.) 

BY DR. JOHN C. SCHAPPS 

just stay there and keep quiet till I have time to 
come and break the spell." 

The junior used to break his own spells by go- 
ing into a room all by himself and turning slowly 
around three times, saying each time, "Come,. 
Spell, Go Spell," but these early morning spells 
are different. He scowled and said : 

"I don't want the spell broken !" See the differ- 
ence ? Of course he could not break it himself 
if he did not want it broken. He turned his face 
to the wall and covered up his head. 

• So the senior partner went away and there 
was silence for a long time, as much as several 
minutes. Then there were bad sounds coming 
from the junior partner's room, screamings and 
whinings and hard disagreeable noises of various 
sorts. Those were from the evil spirits in the 
junior partner. They had possession of his voice 
and used it just as they wanted to. And he 
did n't care ! By and by, when the house had 
become light and warm, the evil spirits became 
tired. That is a way they often have. They take 
advantage of a person's being uncomfortable tO' 
make them act badly. The fact is, they do not 
care to live in comfortable people. Many a time,, 
if you can make a person who seems to be bad, 
very comfortable, the bad spirits will leave and 
you will find that he is really good. Sometimes 
it requires hard work to accomplish this ; but 
often it needs only a kind word, or even a smile 
to get them out. 

After a good while the senior partner heard, 
"Daddy !" 

The senior partner listened. This time it was 
the junior partner using the voice. Just like a 
telephone. You can tell. 

"Daddy, won't you please come and break the 
spell?" 

"Are you quite ready to have it broken?"- 

"Yes, Daddy." 

So the senior partner comes, bringing a tin 
cup of cold water. 

This he holds before him in his left hand and 
passes the first finger of the right hand three 
times around the cup, saying solemnly: 



BREAKING THE SPELL 



123 



"Anna viriimque cano. Take a long drink of 
this Latinized water." 

The junior partner drinks. 

"Take another drink." 

The junior partner takes another drink. 

"Take another drink." 

He takes another drink. 

"Sit up straight and fold your arms, but do 
not cross your fingers." 

He does so. 

"Repeat after me — Eema." 

"Eema." 

"Beema." 

"Bccina." 

"Byma." 

"Byma." 

"Borry." 

"Borry." 

"I 've been bad." 

"/ 've been bad." 



the other way. Say 



"And now I 'm sorry." 

"And now I 'm sorry." 

"Now fold your arms 
Eema." 

"Eema." 

"Beema." 

"Beema." 

"Byma." 

"Byma." 

"Bind." 

"Bind." 

"I 've been cross." 

"/ 've been cross." 

"And now I 'm kind." 

"And noiv I 'm kind." 

"Take three long drinks of the Latinized water." 

So the spell was broken ! And you know what 
happens then. You could almost see the evil 
spirits skedaddling away. And the junior part- 
ner's spell was quite broken. It was just lovely! 




"THE SPELL WAS BROKEN ! 




•''_'■' ■':■■'.:'... ^ ' •■' . ■ , ;■ ' ' '. ' '• V '''''". ■^'" ■'':-■. '' V, •' ."'' '' ■' ■ .■.•:''■/■ /' .' ' ' '■,■•' 




■'■:' /; " FOR WELL WE KNOW THE WINDING ROAD THAT LEADS TO FAIRY LAND." 


-,-. ■ "\ - - 


; . ^ . . -.-^j,-: /^/■■.'"'■"'''^■' -.'"-" '^ ';;'.■';■': V.: '-'^■'■y^^---"-^ ''■■':■'"' .' '<'1--''\/>r;-'' •'■ ■" ■;."' -'l?-^^ '^ ^'V- ■'■■^•'.-:'-' ' '" 7' 


"■■■■----•":■-- 



ROAD TO FAIRY LAND 

The day is dull and dreary, 

And chilly winds and eerie 
Are sweeping through the tall oak trees that fringe the orchard lane. 

They send the dead leaves flying, 

And with a mournful crying 
They dash the western window-panes with slanting lines of rain. 

My little 'Trude and Teddy, 

Come quickly and make ready, 
Take down from off the highest shelf the book you think so grand. 

We '11 travel off together. 

To lands of golden weather, 
For well we know the winding road that leads to Fairy Land. 

A long, long road, no byway. 

The fairy kings' broad highway. 
Sometimes we '11 see a castled hill stand up against the blue. 

And every brook that passes, 

A-whispering through the grasses. 
Is just a magic fountain filled with youth and health for you; 

And we '11 meet fair princesses 

With shining golden tresses. 
Some pacing by on palfreys white, some humbly tending sheep; 

And merchants homeward faring. 

With goods beyond comparing. 
And in the hills are robber bands, who dwell in caverns deep. 

Sometimes the road ascending. 

Around a mountain bending. 
Will lead us to the forests dark, and there among the pines 

Live woodmen, to whose dwelling 

Come wicked witches, telling 
Of wondrous gifts of golden wealth. There, too, are lonely mines. 

But busy gnomes have found them. 

And all night work around them, 
And sometimes leave a bag of gold at some poor cottage door. 

There waterfalls are splashing, 

And down the rocks are dashing. 
But we can hear the sprites' clear call above the torrent's roar. 

Where quiet rivers glisten 

We '11 sometimes stop and listen 
To tales a gray old hermit tells, or wandering minstrel's song. 

We '11 loiter by the ferries. 

And pluck the wayside berries. 
And watch the gallant knights spur by in haste to right a wrong. 

Oh, little 'Trude and Teddy, 

For wonders, then, make ready. 
You '11 see a shining gateway, and, within, a palace grand, 

Of elfin realm the center; 

But pause before you enter 
To pity all good folk who 've missed the road to Fairy Land. 

Cecil Cavendish. 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 

BY MARY CONSTANCE DUBOIS 



Chapter I 

A GIRL WITH IDEALS 

" Rah ! rah ! lah ! 
Basket-ball ! 
Carol Armstrong! 
Hazelhurst Hall!" 

Jean Lennox improvised this yell on the spur 
of the moment, and leaning over the gallery rail 
shouted it forth at the top of her voice, bringing 
the eyes of players and spectators upon her four- 
teen-year-old self. The basket-ball match was 
over; the senior team had beaten the junior by a 
score of twenty to thirteen, and the winners had 
for one of their forwards Carol Armstrong, the 
champion player of the school. The goals that 
Carol had made that day! Why, just before the 
referee's whistle had announced the end of the 
game, standing so far to the side that her friends 
had looked for failure, she had shot the ball 
high, high into the air, and down it had come 
safely through the basket, raising the score of 
the seniors to twenty, and bringing Carol an- 
other rousing cheer. And now Jean, too, had 
distinguished heVself. 

"Good for you, Jeanie !" cried Cecily Brook, 
who sat on Jean's left.> 

Carol Armstrong looked up at the blushing 
author of the rhyme. Carol was a fine, hand- 
some girl of eighteen; tall, and vigorous, and 
graceful, with an air about her of being all 
sparkle and life. Her cheeks were brilliant from 
the hard exercise; her sunny, brown eyes were 
dancing. She smiled at Jean and blew her a kiss 
with the tips of her fingers, accompanied by a 
bow and flourish worthy of the melodrama. Jean 
blushed hotter, but oh, the thrill of happiness ! 
To be saluted by the leader of Hazelhurst, with 
whom she had not exchanged ten words in all 
the months that she had been at school ! 

The twelve players in their pretty jumpers and 
bloomers of navy-blue rushed away to the dress- 
ing-rooms. The girls left behind in the gymna- 
sium rah-rah-rah'd for their Alma Mater ; and 
then— for that first Saturday in March was one 
of drizzle and sleet— they devoted the interval 
before luncheon to indoor exercise. Jean bran- 
dished Indian clubs until her muscles ached. 
Then she perched herself on the headless, tail- 
less "gymnasium horse" to rest, and absent- 
mindedly cuddled a club in her arms. 

Jean was tall fo-r her age, and pale, and in her 



own judgment she was homely, for she did not 
know what charm lay in her strong, yet delicate 
face, with its constantly changing play of expres- 
sion. Her eyes were large, deep-set, and of a 
dark, clear blue ; but the times came often when 
their pupils dilated and they flashed warningly. 
Her forceful mouth gave quick, responsive 
smiles ; and when, as now, her hair ribbons had 
slipped from their moorings, the heavy locks, 
almost black, which fell about her broad fore- 
head, lent an attractively witch-like air to the 
bright, earne face. 

At school, Jean was regarded in the light of 
an interesting curiosity ; she had among other 
things the distinction of having lived for two 
years in Brazil. Her father's business had called 
him to Rio Janeiro for a few years, but her 
parents had decided that when their only child 
came to fourteen she must be sent back to the 
United States to be educated. Poor Jean ! Shy 
and homesick, she had come to Miss Carlton's 
boarding-school, Hazelhurst Hall. She had 
stayed in her shell while the other new-comers 
were choosing their best friends ; and so most of 
the intimacies had been formed while she was 
still left out in the cold. But if she had no bosom 
friend, at least she had the luxury of an ideal to 
adore, and that ideal was Carol Armstrong. Jean 
had fallen in love with her at first sight, when, 
just arrived at the Hall, she had seen Carol 
laughing and talking with her friends, her head 
against the window through which the sunlight 
poured, her chestnut curls gleaming with red 
and gold. Alas ! the course of true love never 
did run smooth ! Jean had not dared to confess 
her admiration to any one but Cecily Brook, 
whom she had pledged to keep her secret. Now 
and then she made offerings of candy and flow- 
ers anonymously, leaving them on Carol's desk, 
and so far all Carol's attempts to play detective 
had failed, and it looked as if her admirer would 
remain forever unknown. 

While Jean was still mounted on the horse, 
Carol came back to the gymnasium, this time in 
her school dress, and was captured by a devoted 
mob, who drew her to the piano and made her 
play for them to dance. Couples were soon 
waltzing to spirited music, but awkward Jean 
found dancing more work than play, and she sat 
still, no one claiming her for a partner. 

"Let 's go and poke up crazy Jane ! It 's too 
silly for her to sit there when she ought to be 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



127 



dancing!" said Frances Browne to her room- 
mate, Adela Mears, when the girls had stopped 
to rest. Frances was a piquante Httle brunette, 
small for her age, slight and nimljle. Her bright, 
black eyes, sparkling with mischief, and her elfin 
quickness had won her the nicknames of "Brown 
Mouse" and "Frisky 
Mouse"; and Adela, 
with her flaxen hair 
and small, pointed' fea- 
tures, had been dubbed 
■"White Mouse," and 
the room which they 
shared together "The 
Mouse Hole." 

"Jean, Jane, do wake 
up ! It is n't time to go 
to bed yet," said Frances. 

"Why don't you get 
up and join in our 
dance?" asked Adela. 

"I don't care to," 
replied Jean, frigidly. 
Between herself and 
Adela there was no 
love lost. 

The day before, as 
they sat side by side in 
the Latin class, Jean 
had found the transla- 
tion that she was writ- 
ing was being stealth- 
ily copied by the White 
Mouse, and her in- 
dignant start and look 
of scorn were still 
rankling in Adela's 
memory. "I know 
what you 're doing," 
she said, teasingly. 
"You 're making up 
your novel." 

"Why, what do you 
mean ?" Jean demand- 
ed, looking startled. 

"Blanche, is n't Jean 
writing a novel ?" Adela turned to Blanche 
Humphreys, Jean's room-mate, who stood near. 

"I should n't wonder. She 's all the time scrib- 
bling in a blank-book, and she won't tell me what 
it 's about," drawled Blanche. She was blonde, 
and overplump, slow speaking, and slow moving. 

"Well, I know it 's a novel, and that 's why 
she 's so moony all the time," said Adela. 

"How did you find out about it ?" asked Blanche. 

"Don't you wish you knew?" laughed Adela. 

"I guess you were in our room without being 



invited," suggested Blanche, with a quiet twinkle 
of the eye. "Was that it?" 

" 'Giiess' is not a proper substitute for 
'think,' " said Adela. 

"You were in the room, or you could n't have 
seen her book !" remarked Blanche 

"It 's big enough to be seen a mile away," said 
Adela. "When is it to be published, Jean?" 





7 



JEAN PERCHED HERSELF ON THE HEADLESS, TAILLESS 'GYMNASIUM HORSE TO REST. 

"Adela Mears, what business did you have to 
sneak into my room and look at my private 
book ?" Jean demanded, the color rising in her 
pale cheeks. 

"I have n't touched your private book," re- 
plied Adela. 

"You were peeping through the keyhole, any way!" 

"No, T was n't I" 

"You were hiding in the closet, then," put in 
Blanche. 

"Well, I had to,— to get away from Miss Sar- 



128 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



[Dec, 



gent," stammered Adela, who had gone farther 
than she had meant in teasing. "She said I was 
to stay in my room yesterday, just for nothing 
at all ; but I was n't going to, so I scooted up- 
stairs to see you. But you were n't there ; and I 
heard Miss Sargent in the hall and skipped into 
the closet. And then Miss Sargent came in with 
Jean, — she was lecturing her about something or 
other, — and as soon as she went out again Jean 
began raging around the room, and said she hated 
everybody, and went on as if she was crazy, and 
I was so scared I did n't dare come out. And 
then she threw herself down on the bed and cried 
and howled !" 

"Oh, Adela, do keep still!" cried Frances. 

Jean was staring at Adela, her blue eyes grow- 
ing black. She despised crying, but now and 
then homesickness combined with some trouble 
of the day would bring the tears, and alone in 
her room she would break down, and with the 
sobs would come wild raging against the fate 
which kept her at school. Such a storm had 
swept over her yesterday, brought on by a sharp 
reproof for carelessness from Miss Sargent, 
teacher of mathematics and strict disciplinarian 
of the younger girls. 

"And then she got up and began to write her 
novel," Adela went on, and broke off with a 
scream, while Frances shot clear across the 
room. Suddenly transformed into a fury, Jean 
sprang from the horse and flung her Indian club 
to the floor with a crash. Adela could not re- 
treat fast enough, and Jean caught her by the 
shoulders and gripped her like a vise, saying in 
a voice quivering with anger: "You 're a hateful, 
dishonorable girl, Adela Mears ! It 's contempti- 
ble to spy on people !" 

"Jean, please don't assassinate Adela !" It 
was Carol Armstrong who spoke. She had left 
the piano, and now she drew Jean merrily but 
forcibly away from Adela and held her with a 
firm arm. "What are you quarreling about, chil- 
dren?" she asked. "Jean Lennox, what is the 
matter ?" 

But Jean, utterly humiliated, jerked herself 
free without replying, and ran from the gym- 
nasium. She fled across the campus to the main 
building of the school, and up to her own room 
in West Wing. There she sat brooding until 
Cecily Brook and Betty Randolph entered. Betty 
was a round-faced, rosy-cheeked maiden, cheery 
and good-natured. Cecily was fair, and dainty, 
and sweet. The girls called her "Saint Cecilia," 
and her fluff of sunny hair, "Saint Cecilia's halo." 

"Jean," said Cecily, taking her hand pettingly, 
"will you do Betty and me a favor? We need 
you dreadfully. We 're trying to get up some 



kind of an entertainment for my birthday next 
Saturday. We 've thought of charades and lots 
of things, but they 're all so stale, and we think 
you ought to be able to think up something new, 
because you write such splendid compositions. 
You have more ideas than all the rest of us put 
together. Won't you help us, please?" 

"You 're only saying that to make me feel bet- 
ter," answered Jean, gloomily. 

"No, we 're not!" said Betty. "We really do 
need you, and you must n't feel so badly. Adela 
and Frances did n't mean any harm, and Adela 's 
really ashamed of herself now. Carol 's been 
giving her a regular blowing up." 

Betty coaxed and purred, and Cecily soothed 
and comforted ; and it was so good and so new 
to feel herself claimed and needed that Jean's 
troubled look gave place to a bright, grateful 
smile. 

"I 'd love to help you, if I can," said she. "I 
love to plan things. But I '11 have to have a 
good long think, and then I '11 tell you if I 've 
thought of anything." 

They left Jean to take counsel with herself, and 
she walked round and round her room till the 
bell rang, dreamed at table, and— luncheon over 
— slipped away, no one knew where. Early in the 
afternoon she presented herself at the door of 
the "Orioles' Nest," as Cecily and Betty had 
named their room, because Betty had a brother 
at Princeton; "The Tigers' Den," first thought 
of, seemed less appropriate to young ladies than 
the "nest" of the orange-and-black oriole. 

"I 've thought of something, but I don't know 
whether you '11 like it," she announced. "It is n't 
just an entertainment, but it 's something that 
maybe will last all our lives." And thereupon a 
meeting was held in the Orioles' Nest. 

Chapter II 

AT HOME IN THE ORIOLEs' NEST 

Miss Elizabeth Edith Randolph, 
Miss Cecily Vernon Brook, 

At home from four to si.x. 

Invitations in this form were distributed on 
the next Saturday among the classmates of the 
hostesses. The cards were enticingly illustrated 
with water-color sketches by Cecily, — two Balti- 
more orioles on the edge of a nest, each perch- 
ing on one foot and holding a tea-cup in the 
other. The guests one and all accepted, and at 
the appointed hour the whole class gathered in 
that coziest of rooms. 

"Oh, what a gorgeous cake ! And I 'm starv- 
ing!" cried Frances. She wisely seated herself 
next to the pretty little tea table on which stood 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



129 



a frosted birthday cake with fifteen Hghted can- 
dles, all rose-pink, and also pink paper baskets 
filled with bonbons, a tall pitcher of lemonade, 
and a set of dainty glasses. Cecily, as queen of 
the day, cut her cake into twelve generous slices, 
while her sister oriole poured the lemonade. 

"Now don't take too long to eat, girls," said 
Betty, hospitably. "We have a scheme to tell 
you about when you 're through." But no coax- 
ing could induce the hostesses to divulge their 
secret while there was a crumb of cake or a sip 
of lemonade to be enjoyed. 

"Now for your scheme," said Phyllis Morton, 
when the feast was over. 

"You tell it, Jean," said Cecily. "You thought 
of it." 

"Why, we want to found an order," said Jean, 
impressively. 

"An order ! What on earth do you mean ?" 
asked Mildred Carrington. 

"I mean an order like the Knights Templars," 
said Jean. "Don't you know we read about them 
in French history? Now don't laugh, this is n't 
just for fun. We 're in real sober earnest. Why 
should n't we found an order, — a society that 
will bind us together, maybe, for all our lives, 
and anyhow will help us all through our school 
life ? Don't you remember that time in the lit- 
erature class,,' when we were studying about the 
legends of King Arthur, and Miss Carlton gave 
us that talk about the battle of life, and girls 
fighting like true knights in it?" 

"I remember," said Thekla Hoffman. "You 
started it up, saying you wished you 'd lived in 
the days of chivalry. You thought all the battles 
and sieges would have been so nice and exciting." 

"I know, and I felt like a goose after I 'd said 
it," Jean admitted. "But Miss Carlton said we 
did n't need to go back to the days of chivalry 
for our battles. She said life was a great long 
warfare, and we had battles to fight every day ! 
And don't you remember she said the girl that 
always stood up for what was right, and was 
always high-minded and honorable, was a true 
knight, and she wanted all the Hazelhurst girls 
to be true knights? Well, we thought we 'd bet- 
ter do what she said, and be knights, and found 
an order like the Round Table. Of course, we 
can't go on 'quests' as they did, but there are 
plenty of things we can do in helping to 
straighten out troubles for one another, and Miss 
Carlton says we can right wrongs and better 
the world." 

"My land, Jean ! Have we got to dress up in 
armor and cavort on horseback ?" laughed Maud 
Perry. 

"li you please, how are we school-girls going 



to better the world?" asked Phyllis. "Be mis- 
sionaries, and one take America, and one Eu- 
rope, and one Asia, and one Africa?" 

"Oh, I don't mean this in a preachy way !" 
said Jean. "But if life 's one big war, with bat- 
tles every day, we 've got to keep fighting, 
have n't we ? Just look at Carol Armstrong and 
our basket-ball team ; don't they have to fight 
hard if they want to win? Well, we can fight 
hard to stand well in our lessons, and to help 
each other for love of Hazelhurst, just as the 
basket-ball teams fight. We can be girl knights." 

"Girl knights ! I never heard anything so 
babyish!" Adela observed to Frances. "Let 's 
buy tin swords and rocking-horses!" 

Jean colored hotly. "I don't want to play 
King Arthur any more than you do, Adela ! I 'm 
not five years old!" she declared. "I have n't 
had a chance to explain. We really can be girl 
knights. There 's a legend about a girl knight 
somewhere ; my father told me about her when 
I was a little bit of a thing. He said she was a 
beautiful princess and she became a knight, and 
she had a magic spear that would overthrow all 
her enemies, and a wonderful shield. I used to 
make up stories about her. I made her ride out 
on quests and right wrongs and save people in 
distress, and she always conquered because she 
had the magic spear. I made her become a great 
warrior queen, the greatest queen that ever 
lived I" 

"And there was a real girl knight in history, 
too," said Cecily. "Joan of Arc wore armor and 
fought and saved France. I 'm sure she looked 
just like you, Jean. I 'm going to call you Joan 
of Arc ! Miss Carlton says we can fight our 
troubles and other people's too. So we '11 try to 
conquer the trouble and unhappiness in the 
world, and that 's the way we '11 better the 
world." 

"And we '11 form a society of girl knights," 
Jean went on, "and we '11 have a sword that '11 
conquer all our enemies, like the magic spear in 
the legend. I like a sword better than a spear, 
don't you? It sounds so victorious! You think 
of a general leading on to victory with his 
sword. Well, we must bind ourselves to love 
each other always, you know, and Miss Carlton 
wants us to be on the lookout to do all the kind 
things we can. So our sword will be the sword 
of love and kind-heartedness. We '11 have it a 
silver sword. Father told me that silver is the 
symbol of love and gold the symbol of truth. 
We can call ourselves the Order of the Silver 
Sword." 

"Order of the Silver Sword ! That sounds 
splendid!" cried Phyllis. 



130 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



[Dec, 



"And you know King Arthur's sword was 
named Excalibur," said Jean. "Well, we '11 name 
our sword Caritas ; that 's the Latin for love." 

"Why, amo means to love, child," Mildred 
corrected. "Amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, 
amant !" 




"'WE CAN CALL OURSELVES THE OKDER OF THE SILVER SWORD,' SAID JEAN." 

"Amo, amas, amat means the falling-in-love and then I asked Miss Carlton. Well, if you like 

kmd of love," Jean explained, "but caritas means the idea, we '11 be the Order of the Silver Sword 

the other kmd : the higher sort of love. It means And the head of the order will be the Queen, 

charity and kmd-heartedness. I studied it out and we '11 elect a new queen every year." 



;.] 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



131 



"Then she '11 be a president." observed Maud. 

"Yes, of course; but you have to say queen 
to make it old-timey. The president and her 
knights would sound too funny ! And the offi- 
cers will be the princesses. The secretary can 
be the Princess of the Scroll, and the treasurer 
can be the Princess of the Treasure. And the 
rest of us will be the maids of honor, but we '11 
all of us — Queen and all — be girl knights, war- 
rior maidens." 

"That 's just the thing for me!" broke in 
Hilda Hastings. "IMy name means battle maid." 

"Does Hilda mean battle maid? Oh, but that 's 
just perfect !" exclaimed Jean. "Battle maid 
sounds ever so much better than girl knight. 
Let 's call ourselves battle maids, shall we ?" 

"But you have n't said anything al^out the 
badges, Jean," said Betty. "We 're going to 
have the darlingest badges!" 

"Yes," said Jean. "You know we must have 
a shield as well as a sword, and the two together 
will make a lovely badge. And don't you think 
it would be beautiful, if the sword 's silver, to 
have the shield gold?" 

"Lovely!'' said Thekla. 

"So we '11 have the golden shield of truth," 
continued Jean. "That will mean that we 're 
going to be true lo each other, and true to what 
is right. And truth is Veritas in Latin, — I looked 
it up. So we '11 name our shield Veritas. And 
our badge will be a golden shield with a silver 
sword across it; and the motto will be 'Caritas 
et Veritas.' " 

"Don't you think it 's a terribly solemn kind 
of a society?" ventured Mildred. 

"Oh, no, because we 're going to have lots of 
fun in it, too!" declared Jean. "We '11 have 
meetings every week and. always get up some- 
thing jolly to do. And we can give entertain- 
ments for charity. We might act a play some 
time !" 

"And we must have initiations," said Betty. 

"Initiations are loads of fun," said Frances. 
"We can play all sorts of tricks and scare each 
other to death, almost!" 

The gleam of silver swords and golden shields, 
the martial tone of the enterprise, and the pros- 
pect of initiations and entertainments kindled 
the zeal of the company in general, and from 
frisky Frances t.o ponderous Blanche every one 
expressed her readiness to enlist. 

"Now," said Cecily, when the recruits had 
been enrolled, "first of all we '11 have to call a 
meeting to elect our officers. Oh, and Jean, do 
get us your list of rules. Jean 's written out a 
beautiful set of rules." 

"I have n't had time to finish copying them. 



I '11 do it right away. It won't take me five 
minutes," said Jean. She whispered something 
in Cecily's ear and left the room. 

"I 'm going to give out my birthday souvenirs 
while we 're waiting," said Cecily, and she and 
Betty took from the table the dainty candy bas- 
kets and distributed them among the guests. To 
the handle of each basket was tied with a pink 
ribbon a card bearing the name of the girl who 
received it, and an accompanying bit of verse. 

"Why, I did n't know you could write poetry!" 
exclaimed Phyllis, looking up from her card. 

"P'raps I can and p'raps I can't," replied Ce- 
cily. "P'raps I promised not to tell who wrote 
them !" 

"I know who wrote them!" said Hilda. "It 
was Jean, so you might as well own up. She 's 
the only one of us all who could do it." 

"Yes, it was Jean," said Betty. "/ did n't prom- 
ise not to tell." 

"She asked me to give out the baskets while 
she was out of the room," said Cecily, "so she 
would n't have to listen to her own poems." 

"My, is n't she funny ! I should think she 'd 
be so proud she could write!" said Phvllis. "Just 
listen to mine, girls, it 's too dear for anything!" 
And she read: 

" Airy and high, 

Under the sky. 
Is the nest where the orioles flit and fly. 

Sweet Phyllis, rest, 

And be a guest 
At the afternoon tea in the Orioles' Nest." 

"Cecily ought to have read hers first, because 
it 's her birthday," said Betty. "Read yours now, 
Cece," and Cecily read : 

"Saint Cecilia, hail to thee 

On this happy day! 
May 'st thou sorrow never see. 
But from every care be free ! 
May thy life all sunshine be ! 

Storm-clouds, keep away ! 

"May the birds their sweetest sing 

On this birthday bright ! 
May good fairies on the wing 
All their gifts most royal bring, 
And, to crown their offering. 

Joyous dreams to-night ! " 

"Now listen to mine," said Betty: 

"Oh, good Queen Bess, in days of yore, 
A shocking temper had ! 
She stamped her foot upon the floor 
Whenever she was mad. 

"She frowned a most terrific frown, 
And tore her hair so red. 



132 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



[Dec, 



And brought her golden scepter down 
On Walter Raleigh's head ! 

"But here we have a good Queen Bess 
Who rules us with a smile, 
Her heart is full of gentleness 
And sunshine all the while. 

"She ne 'er was known to box our ears ; 
She never pulls our hair. 
Oh, let us give three hearty cheers 
For our Queen Bess so fair ! " 

"Why, that "s simply fine !"' exclaimed Maud. 

Rhyme after rhyme was read and received 
praise that would have set the poet's pale cheeks 
glowing again, could she have heard. 

"Why don't you two read your poems?" Cecily 
demanded of Frances and Adela, who had sat 
whispering over their cards without joining in 
the applause. 

"We Mouses are too ashamed," said Frances. 
"Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! I 'm really and truly 
ashamed of myself ! I made Jean hopping mad 
yesterday ; I illustrated her composition with 
giraffes — giraffe 's my name for her, you know, 
— she 's so tall and lanky! And now just hear 
what a duck of a thing she 's given mc ! I 'm 
going to call her Giraffe the Generous!" And 
she read : 

"Oh, welcome, bright-eyed Frisky, 
You brown and tricksy Mouse ! 
Come in and nip and taste and sip. 
At tea in the Orioles' house. 

"We need you at our party 

To frolic and frisk and play. 
For the merriest treat would be incomplete 
If the Brown Mouse stayed away." 

"Mine 's a dear, too," said Adela. "Listen : 

"O lily-white Mouse, we are glad to see 

You have crept from the Mouse Hole to come to 

our tea ! 
We know your fondness for sugar and spice 
And birthday parties and all things nice. 
So nibble your candies ; no cat will molest 
The Mouse that is safe in the Orioles' Nest." 

"I '11 tell you why she 's so nice to you," said 
Cecily. "It 's because she 's using the sword 
Caritas ! And you '11 have to stop teasing her 
after this if you wish to belong to the order ! 
I 'm going to tell her we 're all throttgh ; and 
please everybody be nice to her when she comes 
back." She left the Orioles' Nest and went up- 
stairs to Jean's room, "Castle Afterglow," as 
Jean had sentimentally named it while gazing 
out at a sunset. Cecily walked in, stopped short 
and stared, the spectacle which met her aston- 
ished gaze banishing all thought of battle maids 
and their silver swords. 



"Why Jean !" she exclaimed, "what on earth are 
you doing? Are you house-cleaning?" For Jean 
was sitting on the floor of Castle Afterglow, sur- 
rounded by all her worldly goods. Dresses and 
school-books, petticoats and writing pads, shoes 
and ribbons, Sunday hat and tennis racket, all 
lay in one chaos. Bureau drawers were tilted 
forward, empty and threatening to fall out. The 
desk had been emptied and a snowfall of papers 
was sprinkled about the room. Jean met Cecily's 
amused look with a glare. 

"I 've been robbed!" she said, in a tragic tone. 
"Robbed?" cried Cecily. 

"Yes, robbed, robbed, rohbcd," Jean repeated. 
"And I know who did it, too." 

"Who?" asked Cecily, thinking of the new 
housemaid. 

"That contemptible Adela Mears." 
"Jean, are you crazy ! The idea of any girl at 
our school stealing ! You ought to be ashamed 
of yourself !" 

"/ call it stealing, to come into my room when 
nobody 's here and take away my book!" 
"Oh, is that all? She borrowed a book?" 
"Borrowed ! She stole it to torment me, and 
I '11 never forgive her!" 
"What book was it?" 

"The book with all my writings," moaned the 
authoress of fourteen. 

"The book she saw you writing in when she 
hid in your closet?" asked Cecily. 

Jean nodded disconsolately. "I 
the rules for the order in the end 
and I had n't quite finished copying them out 
nicely to read to the girls when I had to go down 
to the party. And when I came up-stairs just 
now, to finish them, I found the book was gone." 
Then she started to her feet. "I "m going for 
Adela this very minute !" 

Cecily caught Jean and held her tight. "Wait, 
please wait," she begged. "I don't believe she 's 
taken it at all. It "s probably under some of your 
things." 

"No, it 's not," answered Jean, as Cecily began 
to fish in the conglomerate mass on the floor. 
"I "ve hunted through everything. And I know 
it 's Adela, because she 's been simply crazy to 
find out what 's in my book. I 'd die before I 'd 
show it to her. Oh, the mean, hateful thing! 
I 'm going for her ! Let go of me. Cecily !" 

But Cecily held on. "Please! Jean, please!" 
she begged. "You don't want to spoil our party, 
do you? Let me go for you, and if she has taken 
it I '11 make her give it back. But if you fly at 
her and then you find she has n't, you '11 feel so 
silly." 

"She has taken it.'* 



'd scribbled 
of the book. 



I908.] 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



133 



"Well, any way, let me go for you, and you 
pick up your things. Miss Sargent will give you 
a big scolding if she finds your room like this." 

Jean knelt down again amid the chaos, but she 
asked anxiously: "You won't look at my book if 
you find it, will you?" 

"I should think not!" answered Cecily, indig- 
nantly. "But why are you so afraid to have 
anybody see it?" 

"Why, Cecily, it has all my most secret 
thoughts!" replied Jean tragically. 

"What do you mean? Is it a journal?" 

"I began it as a journal," said Jean. "But I 
kept forgetting to write it up. So I began put- 
ting in all kinds of stuff; rhymes and stories and 
lots of nonsense ; and I 've written many things 
that I would n't have anybody see for the world. 
To think of her reading it all and making fun of it !" 

"Oh, she could n't be so mean ! And I don't 

(To be con 



much tliink she 's taken it," said Cecily, refusing 
to believe in such villainy ; but Jean picked up a 
little linen handkerchief. 

"Look there!" she cried. "It 's Frances!" 

Cecily examined the innocent bit of white and 
saw on the hem "Frances E. Browne" marked 
in indelible ink. She looked at it in dismay. 

"It was both of them ! I Ml speak my mind to 
them now!" And Jean sprang to her feet. 

"No. no ! Go to their room first. They must 
have left it there," said Cecily. 

"Yes, that 's what I '11 do!" exclaimed Jean. 
"I '11 get it first and then I '11 settle them!" 

They went down together to the floor below 
and invaded the Mouse Hole, searching in every 
nook, but that precious volume was nowhere to 
be seen. "I'm going noiv ! I '11 j/ia/^r them give it 
tome!" Jean's eyes flashed fire. She turned and 
found peeping in at the door, Frances and Adela. 



MEM. 7 A. M. 

(A n abbreviated liDierick) 

BY frp:derick moxon 




Two boys went to bed the last day of Nov. 
And stayed there until the next first of Dec. 

They went on a Sun. 

Came back on a Mon. 
But where they crossed midnight they could not rem. 



laryy 




eete 



hy 







DiD you hear of the time when Larry O'Keefe 

Went to the Donnybrook fair? 
It 's myself would have been after going 

If I 'd had a sixpence to spare. 



Larry got up one morning early, 
"And it 's lonesome I am," says he; 
"Now with pigs in the pen and a cat on the 
hearth 
'T would be a bit cheerful for me ; 



\ 



\ 



i 



>~^ 



\\\\ 



"So it 's off to the fair I '11 be going, 

To bargain as best I can." 
And he donned the high hat and the 

long-tailed coat 
Befitting a gentleman, 



IV 

And, it 's on to the fair he was walking, 
/ When the Widdy McCarty espied 

/ k His hat forninst her old cabin, 
/' / And, "Larry, O Larry!" she cried. 

134 




LARRY O'KEEFE 



135 



"I 've the price of a cow in my kerchief, 
But I never can get to the fair ; 
Will ye buy her for me, Larry, darlint? 
'T will be aisy enough whin you 're there. 







LL YE BUY HER FOR ME, LAUKY, DARLINT?' 



VIII 



VI 



"It 's proud I will be," answered Larry, 
And the kerchief he put in his hat ; 
But he counted soft on his fingers : 
"A cow, two pigs, and a cat." 



"And if ye should see a goose, Larry, 
Going cheap, just drive it along.'' 

"Tea, 'baccy, a cow, two pigs, and a cat. 
And a goose {if it 's sold for a song). 




Just beyant, lame old Shamus was waitmg 
And, "Larry, boy, bring me," said he, 
"A drawing of tay for the woman, 
And a bit of tobaccy for me ; 



"JUST BEYANT, LAME OLD SHAMUS WAS WAITING.' 



136 



LARRY O'KEEFE 



[Dec, 



IX 



On the footbridge stood Peggy O'Brien, 
With a shawl thrown over her head; 

And, "My churn 's given out entirely ! 
Will ye bring me another?" she said. 



"And ribands and sweets for the childer, 
Good-natured man that ye be." 

"A cozv, two pigs, ribands, 'baccy, a churn, 
A goose, and a draining of tea." 




"ON THE FOOTBliIU(;E bUMlD I'lOGGY o'liKlEN." 
XI 

Scarce a mile had he gone when he met with the priest ; 

"I 'm called to the hills," said he. 
'And my father's first cousin's wife's grandson has sent 
A hound to the fair for me ; 



igoS.] 



LARRY O'KEEFE 



137 




"Will ye mind if he follows ye home, 
Larry?" 
"I '11 be proud if he will," says he. 
"Cow, ribands, pigs, 'baccy, goose, 
sweets, and a churn, 
A hound, and a drawing of tea." 



the mouth of the Glen of Shohola 
' WILL YE MIND IF HE FOLLOWS YE HOME, LARRY? ' " . Stood Paddy McQuadc's gossoon ; 

"Will ye bring me a goat from the fair, Larry?" 
"Say the word, and I '11 bring ye the moon. 
Cozv, 'baccy, pigs, churn, szveets, ribands, 
goose, pup, 
Tea, goat,— faith, I 've usedmy fingers 
all up !" 







' WILL YE BRING ME A GOAT FROM THE FAIR, LARRY ? ' " 



Vol. XXXVL — i8. 



138 



LARRY O'KEEFE 



[Dec, 



XIV 



XVI 



The sun was high in the heavens, 
Though the sky was a bit overcast, 

When Larry O'Keefe with his bargains 
Started for home at last; 



The cat, upon Larry's shoulder, 

Spat at the dog at his heel ; 
Ye could count the pigs no more than ye could 

The spokes of a flying wheel; 



XV 



XVII 



The cow of the Widdy McCarty 
Walked far ahead on the track; 

To her right foreleg was tethered the goose, 
And the churn was tied on her back; 



When the goat was n't urging them forward 
He was butting the goose, or the cow; 

And the strings with which Larry had tied them 
Were snarled as ye could n't think how; 




'LARRY O'KEEFE WITH HIS BARGAINS." 



I908.] 



LARRY O'KEEFE 



139 



XVIII XIX 

Larry's pockets were stuffed with bundles, The sun had scarce set when the neighbors 

■ "And I 'm starting betimes," says he ; Met, by the Blowing Stone, 

'For I 'm thinking there '11 be small room on the With Larry O'Keefe, empty-handed, 

road And, barring his pigs, alone. 
For anythmg else but me !" 



XX 

"Where 's the cow?" "And the churn?" "And 
the 'baccy?" 
"And me goat?" "And the goose? and the 
tea?" 
"Where 's the hound?" "And the sweets, and the 
ribands?" 
Larry scratched his poor head, dumfounded. 
"Faith ! they 're all on the road !" says he. 



',^f- 








A SON OF THE DESERT 

BY BRADLEY OILMAN 



Chapter IV 

NATURAL JUSTICE 

Commandant General Hewatt swung open the 
heavy iron door and allowed his eager ward to 
enter, but he himself kept close behind, to guard 
against possible dangerous surprises. There 
seemed little to be feared, however; the com- 
mandant's large, powerful figure far outclassed 
the delicate lines of the young Arab's frame. 

When the two visitors entered, the prisoner 
drew himself up and crossed his arms on his 
breast, with a look of quiet confidence, which 
deepened into simple boyish delight and surprise 
as Ted Leslie advanced, with a smile, and held 
out the fresh fragrant roses. 

The commandant's trained eye was upon the 
prisoner. But the condemned youth showed 
neither surly ill-will nor yet servile gratification 
at the offer of the flowers, but, instead, a frank 
delight, as he took them. 

"They are the smiles of Allah ; my soul re- 
joices in them" ; he said, not bowing, but stand- 
ing erect and dignified. 

With an answering look of friendliness, Ted 
asked: "By what name art thou called?" 

"Is not my father Abou-Kader, of the tribe of 
Ababdeh ?" responded the young man without 
hesitation; "and I his eldest son, Achmed?" 
Then he added, with a proud look in his dark 
eyes, "I am a Bedouin." 

There was such an absence, in his manner, of 
the usual convict "grumpiness," that his ques- 
tioner was not quite ready for his next move, and, 
somewhat hastily said : "You have . . . you 
have . . . slain . . . somebody?" Then he felt 
ashamed at his bare clumsy inquiry. But the 
reply was given, again, without hesitation. 

A light came into the young Bedouin's eyes ; 
his face took on, as he spoke, not a tinge of 
brutality, but an expression of exaltation. 

"Allah be praised, my enemy was given into 
my hands. Upon me was laid the great burden. 
My heart yearns to go to my father and say 'Rest 
now ! The slayer of your child has himself been 
slain. These hands have done it.' " 

Ted Leslie started back because of the flash 
of light which burst upon him. And as for the 
stern commandant, his frown relaxed a little, 
for he saw that the case was complicated. "Here 
we strike against the old law of the desert" ; he 
remarked, pulling uneasily at his mustache. 



The three stood in silence for a few moments. 
Achmed, the Bedouin, was looking from one to 
the other of his visitors, with a confident, ex- 
pectant expression on his face. He was wait- 
ing for them to show their sympathy in his 
triumph. 

"It is ... it is wrong to kill a human be- 
ing," ventured Ted. 

"You speak true words," responded Achmed, 
earnestly. "And tenfold more wTong is it to kill 
an innocent child." 

"Did your enemy kill a child?" asked Ted. 

The prisoner choked as he replied, in a low 
voice, and bending forward; "My little brother." 

"Oh I" exclaimed Ted, now losing his reserve. 

General Hewatt bit at his under lip, nervously, 
and asked: "How was it?" 

"He came to our camp, he, our enemy ; but he 
was not then our enemy," said young Achmed, 
speaking slowly. "My father welcomed him, 
gave him food to eat and water to drink. He 
went in and out among us ; his strength came 
back to him; his black heart had been bleached 
by hunger and thirst, but when his strength re- 
turned, then returned also the blackness of his 
heart. He sought to steal my brother and carry 
him to the slave-market of Fayum ; and when he 
was pursued, he slew him and escaped. Yes, he 
killed my brother, my playmate. The crescent 
moon in the sky of my youth was blotted out. 

"We knew who had done the deed ; he who 
had tasted our salt had repaid us thus. My old 
father groaned in the night watches. Then I 
knew my task. Allah laid on me the burden." 

The deep, dark eyes were like fire, as his words 
came forth faster and faster. "I tracked the 
dog; I ate little and I slept not at all, until I 
found him ; and when I found him . . ." In 
the intensity of his feelings he had forgotten his 
listeners; his lithe body quivered with excite- 
ment. "Ah, when I found him . . ." 

He suddenly recollected where he was, and his 
rigid posture relaxed, his words ceased. He 
drew a long breath, passed his hand across his 
eyes, folded his arms, and looked at his visitors 
with quiet confidence, expecting approval. They, 
for their part, looked constrainedly at each other; 
the same feeling was in both their hearts. They 
could not help feeling they had listened to the 
recital of a brother's vengeance according to the 
law of the desert. 

Ted's young eyes gave convincing evidence of 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



141 



his warm sympathy; but the general's face did 
not relax its stern bearing. 

The young Arab stood erect, expectant. 

"When shall I go," he asked quietly, "and bear 
my message to my father ? I would dry his 
tears, and make his nights peaceful." 

"Poor chap !" muttered the commandant, in 
English. 

The young prisoner had acted according to the 
law of his race, the only law he knew; he was 
now trusting blindly to that English justice 
which had made itself felt, directly or by hear- 
say, over all the Arabian desert. 

The commandant's voice broke in upon Ted's 
thoughts : 

"Come, come !" he said, "we must be going." 

The voice was so hoarse and inarticulate that 
it strengthened the resolution which, on the in- 
stant, was born in Ted's generous heart. 

"General Hewatt," he said, "it does seem as if 
somebody must tell this poor fellow the hard 
truth. Somebody must explain to him just 
where he stands, before the law." 

Then Ted ventured a point further and said, 
"I wish you would leave me alone with this boy. 
... I will try to make his position clear to him." 

The commandant stepped a pace away and 
stared at his impulsive young friend. Then 
he glanced at the refined face of the Bedouin 
and he said : "Very well, my boy, I will do it." 
And he strode from the cell, his feet ringing 
sharply upon the stone pavement, and along the 
corridors ; and silence followed, as he descended 
the iron stairway to the floor below. 

Then the young visitor knew that he must say, 
as plainly as he could, the hard thing which he 
had taken upon himself to say; and he spoke, 
quietly, firmly. "You do not quite understand 
Achmed. You are accused, yes, and have been 
convicted in court by a law of the English, that 
he who kills must give up his own life." 

The young Arab made no sign ; he listened, 
standing calmly like a young prince. He acted 
as if his visitor were talking about some person 
other than himself. "Don't you understand 
this?" Ted continued. 

"I understand," he presently replied, with a 
smile, "that you are speaking of wicked people. 
What are they to the son of Abou-Kader?" 

"But the law says," continued Ted, nervously, 
"that anybody, any man,— no matter who he is, 
who slays another, must— must himself be put 
to death." 

The young Bedouin gravely inclined his head, 
and his face grew stern. "That is right. That 
is why I killed the dog of a Sudanese." 

"Oh, no ! You do not yet understand," pro- 



tested Ted. "The English law in Egypt says 
that every man who plans to kill another man, 
and does it, must himself be put to death." 

"Ah, I understand," said Achmed. "The man 
who put the murderer to death might be a 
wicked man ; then it would be right to kill him 
also. 

"Yes and I also understand this," the Bedouin 
went on, earnestly, "that the English are a just 
people. Has not my father told us that the Eng- 
lish brought justice into Egypt, where only 
wrong ruled before? Will not just men rejoice, 
therefore, that a cruel murderer is slain?" 

On that point of natural right this son of the 
desert took his stand. 

"When will they set me free ?" he presently 
asked, with dignity, "that I may go and make 
glad the hearts of my people ?" 

Ted could not repress a sigh. He saw the no- 
bility of the youth's untutored nature. He knew 
that he was partly in the right ; yet he knew, 
also, that the machinery of the law would grind 
relentlessly on. He was deeply moved by the 
thought of this mere boy's impending fate ; 
Achmed's confidence in the justice of English 
law only added a keener pang to Ted's pity. And 
in addition Ted felt keen disappointment at his 
own failure. "I will ask the commandant," he 
said quietly, now moving toward the door, "to 
explain this to you. Perhaps he can make it 
clearer." Then a surge of generous pity made 
him gaze wistfully at the Bedouin youth as if 
begging him to understand. But in the clear 
desert eyes there dwelt such a light of utter 
composure and confidence, that Ted saw how 
vain was the wish. 

As he stood at the door of the cell, he asked : 
"Is there anything I can do for you?" It was a 
formal inquiry, addressed to one who seemed in 
need of everything— clothing, friends, life itself. 

The prisoner moved a step nearer, and a look 
of perplexity came into his face. His lips parted, 
then closed again. He glanced up at the win- 
dow, and around the cell. "Could my friend tell 
me," he asked, "which is the direction of the 
East? Toward Mecca? I came here in the 
night, and the turnings of the path were many. 
I would like to know in what quarter is the East. 
For," he added, "toward the East I must face 
during my prayers." 

Ted showed him the points of the compass and 
then asked again : "Is there anything more I can 
do for you?" 

Again the dark face of the young Arab 
changed. An expression of child-like shyness 
came over it. "I would be glad," he said, "if my 
friend can do it, I would be very glad to have 



142 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



[Dec, 



some date-stones" ; and he blushed and added, 
with a charming candor, "my Httle brother and I 
often played games with date-stones." 

The shy request was so simple, so far removed 
from the artificial standards of English or 
American life, that Ted, for a moment, did not 
understand. There stood the sinewy youth who 
had slain a human being and had rejoiced in it, 
— and asked, like a child in its nursery, for a 
few date-stones as playthings. 

Glad, indeed, to be able to gratify him, Ted 
promised to send the date-stones at once; and, 
with a sigh of disappointment at the failure of 
his sad mission, he went out, and the waiting 
guard slowly turned the key ; the bolt of the lock 
seemed to snap viciously in its socket, like a 
snarling wolf, angry that any attempt had been 
made to snatch from it its prey. 

Chapter V 

THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 

Within an hour, Ted had sent the date-stones, 
but he was not willing to rest content with so 
slight a service ; he was both vexed by the fail- 
ure of his visit to the cell, and goaded by his 
keen pity for the young prisoner. He could 
think of little else, amid his daily duties and 
diversions, except that hopeful, artless youth, 
with death impending over him. 

The feeling took root in Ted's heart that so 
bold and fine a spirit ought not to die, and need 
not die. If only the general would go to Cairo, 
and — but Ted stopped short in his dreaming; he 
knew the general's deep respect for the law. 

n by any remote possibility anything could 
be done, Ted must do it. 

The generous lad was pondering thus when a 
message came ; the Arab prisoner had asked to 
have him come again to the hospital quarters. 
Ted responded at once to the summons. When 
he entered the open court, or yard, surrounding 
the hospital, he saw the prisoner, held firmly in 
the grasp of three Sudanese, while the prison- 
armorer, with his small portable anvil, and 
chains, and hammers, stood near, coolly waiting. 

"What is the matter, Achmed?" he asked 
promptly. 

Achmed did not reply in words, but glanced 
angrily at the robust black fellows who held 
him, and then at his friend. 

"Take your hands off him," Ted said, gently, 
to the Sudanese. "I will be surety for his quiet 
behavior." And they obeyed grumblingly. 

Then Achmed, shaking himself like a dog 
coming out of the Nile, spoke rapidly. 

"I will not be chained like a mad camel ! 



They wished to fasten me, me, the son of Abou- 
Kader, with those iron bands and chains. I will 
not submit. I have submitted long enough; I 
yielded at Cairo because they told me it was 
right that I should; but I will no longer yield; 
and these dogs of Sudanese, their hands defile 
me. I loathe them." 

He was a magnificent picture of indignation 
and defiance as he stood there, the center of the 
group ; there was a proud scorn in his dark eyes, 
and in his pose and gestures, which made the 
other men shrink and stammer. Ted needed no 
words of theirs to make the situation clear. The 
American lad replied, soothingly, to Achmed : 
"The commandant has fold me that you have a 
wound on your back ; he thinks that it will heal 
more quickly out here in the open air, than in a 
cell ; but the law of the prison is, Achmed, that 
if you are given the freedom of the yard, you 
must have these irons put on you. Now do you 
understand?" 

"Yes, my friend, I understand," was his quick 
reply; "but I will remain in my cell with my 
wound unhealed, rather than wear these mana- 
cles. The son of Abou-Kader would rather die 
than submit to them." 

Ted's face grew troubled. He knew that Ach- 
med had a Moslem's contempt for death, and he 
could appreciate, as grosser natures could not, 
his fine sense of disgrace at being chained "like 
a mad camel." Still, Ted felt sure that the open 
air was the place for the desert's son ; how 
could he persuade him? 

"Achmed," exclaimed Ted impulsively, throw- 
ing out his hands, "Achmed, you must submit, ' 
this once, at least. I beg you to allow these men 
to do their work. It is for your good. You are 
in danger and you do not seem to know it. You 
must not disobey any order. I shall try— I shall 
try— but you must help— must help." His voice 
trembled, and he motioned the young Arab to 
seat himself on the ground. 

Ted's evident eagerness, and earnestness, ef- 
fected what reasoning or threatening could 
never have done. The youth was awed by his 
vehemence ; he had the inborn chivalry of the 
Bedouin character. His countenance lost its 
fierce expression, and he said quietly: 

"What my kind friend wishes, Achmed 
wishes ; what my friend asks him to do, that he 
will do." And he at once seated himself, sub- 
missively, looking not at armorer or guards, but 
at Ted, wonderingly, trustfully, like a child. 

The experienced armorer deftly slipped an 
open iron ring about each of the prisoner's an- 
kles; then, with a few sharp blows of his ham- 
mer, he riveted the ends of the rings together; 



i9o8.] 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



143 



a chain, about five feet long, connected the two 
rings, and this chain was to be carried, as by all 
the outdoor convicts, looped up and fastened at 
the waist ; it did not wholly prevent walking, it 
merely restricted it. 

Achmed submitted quietly, almost like one in 
a trance ; yet there was fire in his eyes, and the 
Sudanese were cautious in moving about him. 
But he noticed them not ; his soul was stirred 
at the evident honest sympathy of his young 
American friend ; Ted's great pity was written 
plainly on his face, and Achmed felt its gener- 
ous bestowal, and was grateful, with all the 
gratitude and constancy of an Arab's heart. 

The next day Ted Leslie carried out the bold, 
unprecedented plan which he had decided upon 
?n the night as he had tossed sleeplessly upon his 
bed. Notwithstanding the fact that he was 
really an invalid, and weak, and had a bad head- 
ache, and that the prison surgeon had told him 
he should keep quiet, impetuous, generous Ted 
Leslie went away to Cairo on the early train. 
Had General Hewatt been in the guard-room, 
as was his morning custom, very likely he would 
have put searching questions, as he passed, and 
probably would have forbidden the lad to carry 
out his bold plan. But the general was down 
by the Nile, superintending the unloading of a 
felucca which had just come from Alexandria, 
laden with jute; and the resolute young fellow 
took his departure unhindered. 

The exact details of his interview with the 
officials at Cairo were never told, but there was 
some surprise as he made known his errand. 

Lord Cromer himself was the personage 
whom he first sought; but those were the troub- 
lous days of '97, when the wise, just autocrat 
of Egypt was showing the crafty Mahdi that he 
could be outgeneraled by the steady, sure ad- 
vance of British retribution. 

So there was considerable confusion in the 
war-office of Cairo as Ted Leslie made his in- 
quiries at several desks. Much to his disap- 
pointment, Lord Cromer himself was not to be 
seen. But an authorized subordinate, wearing 
a tarboosh, and pulling violently at his mustache, 
finally gave the necessary paper; and Ted Les- 
lie went back to Tourah with a written assur- 
ance that the prisoner would not be executed "at 
present." That was the most favorable form of 
reprieve which he could obtain. 

Achmed learned, a few days later, in an in- 
terview with the blunt prison surgeon, that he 
was likely to be executed, in Cairo, sooner or 
later. And after that interview, the lad grew 
very thoughtful, and was more than ever re- 
served. He was as greatly perplexed as ever 



over the strange workings of the English law, 
which he had been taught was the highest form 
of justice ever known in Egypt; but he now rea- 
lized that his life was likely to be demanded of 
him— although how soon no one could tell — not 
even the noble young American who had proved 
so stanch a friend. 

Chapter VI 

A PECULIAR FAREWELL 

Thus the days passed. Achmed's injured back 
entirely healed. He walked restlessly about 
during the greater part of the time, in the open 
courtyard, but he did not mingle with the other 
prisoners; he felt a deep aversion to their 
coarse words and ways, and preferred the soli- 
tude of his own thoughts. Ted Leslie saw much 
of him ; they had many hours of conversation 
•together. Impelled by the wish to distract him 
from dark, brooding thoughts, Ted told him 
many facts about England and America, and 
even taught him words and simple sentences in 
the English language ; in learning this he was 
very apt. Not once did he offend in taste or 
manners, by word or deed; not once did he seem 
to forget that he was a prince of the Ababdeh 
tribe. Ted inferred from his indirect remarks that 
the coarse prison clothes were very distasteful 
to him ; and he persuaded the commandant 
to allow him to return to his native garb. This 
request was assented to by General Hewatt, 
at first with hesitation ; but the young Bedouin 
had made a favorable impression on him; and 
the commandant also reflected grimly and sadly 
that this wearing of his native dress might not 
be for long. 

As soon as Ted had gained from the com- 
mandant this concession about the clothing, he 
hastened to Cairo ; and there, in a native mar- 
ket, at the end of the Mouski, he purchased a 
complete Bedouin costume. 

Achmed was delighted at receiving this Arab 
garb, and expressed his delight in quaint, fanci- 
ful Arabic phrases. He was as delighted as a 
youth could be who was gradually realizing that 
his life hung by a thread. He brooded deeply 
over his unhappy position, and more and more 
he opened his heart to his kind young friend. 
He never lost faith in English justice, and never 
quite despaired of the overruling care of "Allah, 
the Just One." 

There was a bare possibility of the commuta- 
tion of his sentence ; but the commandant re- 
fused to interfere ; he knew how absorbed the 
English war-office was at that time with the 
suppression of the wily Mahdi and his fanatical 



144 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



[Dec, 



dervishes. The lamentable fate of Gordon, at 
Khartum, had embittered every English heart, 
and the execution of a young Arab murderer, 
legally condemned, was not likely to arouse 
much sympathy. 

At last the suspense was broken, but not joy- 
fully. One morning a guard of three men, from 
the Cairo prison, appeared at Tourah, and pre- 
sented an order for the return of Achmed to 
Cairo, adding that he was to be executed the 
next day. 

The dreaded summons greatly depressed the 
general, and brought tears of sympathy and sor- 
row to his ward's eyes. But, brave lad that Ted 
was, he asked permission to be himself the 
bearer of the terrible message to the doomed 
young Arab. 

As he issued from the guard-room into the 
open air, Ted noticed that a strong, steady wind 
had arisen, blowing from the west, straight from 
the Libyan Desert. He thought nothing of it, 
but made his way at once to the open court of 
the hospital quarters, where Achmed, by the 
commandant's kindness, was still allowed to re- 
main. 

When the two met, the condemned lad, with 
quick intelligence, read the sad message in his 
young friend's face. A few broken sentences, 
and the hard truth was told him. In the early 
evening he must go back to Cairo, and must- 
must be brave enough to meet— whatever might 
await him. 

To Ted's surprise, he did not seem deeply 
moved by the dreadful message ; indeed, Ted 
now observed, what in his own agitation he had 
not at first noticed, that the Bedouin youth ap- 
peared much excited by some other feeling. 
And when Ted paused, after brokenly express- 
ing his sympathy, Achmed seemed to forget his 
presence, and walked nervously up and down, 
his chains clanking at every stride, while his 
eager gaze was directed toward the west, whence 
blew the steady wind from the great desert. 

Presently he came close to Ted, bent his deep, 
dark eyes upon his friend's face and said, in a 
low, but agitated, tone : 

"My brother, it is the Hkhamscen; the breath 
of the desert, and the son of Abou-Kader knows 
it is calling him. Out of his desert home it has 
come for him. It has never failed him; it is 
stern and fierce ; but it will save his son." 

Ted drew back, perplexed, almost alarmed. 
Was the poor fellow losing his mind? Had the 
thought of his dreadful fate unseated his intel- 
ligence? Ted's perplexed manner plainly 
showed that he did not understand the strange 
youth. 



A faint smile came upon the Bedouin's dark, 
expressive face ; the peculiar, remote smile 
which was so characteristic of his simple, un- 
schooled nature. 

"My brother of the kind heart does not under- 
stand," he said, glancing about him, as if fearful 
of being overheard. "But he will understand 
soon. The son of the desert could not under- 
stand when he kindly tried to warn him ; now it 
is my friend and brother who cannot under- 
stand." Then he paused, but in hesitation ; he 
seemed on the point of saying more, yet with- 
held his words ; his lips closed firmly, and he 
went a few paces away, again faced toward the 
west, and his thin nostrils dilated as if eagerly 
drinking in the strong air-current from the great 
desert. 

In a few moments Achmed spoke more gently, 
yet with vehemence : "The son of Abou-Kader 
will never forget the English heart that has been 
so tender toward him in his misfortune, nor the 
feet that have run on errands of mercy for him, 
nor the hands that have so often served him." 
And raising his quivering forefinger, he pointed 
to his eyes. "By my eyes," he exclaimed, fer- 
vently, "I will not forget thee," and, pointing to 
his heart, "by my heart, my life, I will ever 
remember thee ; I have sworn it. Be thou in 
Allah's keeping!" 

He turned abruptly away, and resumed his 
long, nervous strides, pausing at times to scan 
the heavens, and again to open his thin nostrils 
to the dry, steady wind from the desert. 

His burning words amazed the American boy. 
They seemed like a quaint and earnest farewell, 
yet there was a triumphant note in their melody 
which was mysterious. And with mingled sor- 
row and surprise, Ted Leslie walked slowly out 
of the courtyard and sought his own room. 

Chapter VII 

THE HEART OF THE HKHAMSEEN 

Achmed continued his restless strides up and 
down the graveled floor of the courtyard. The 
other prisoners lounged in groups and gossiped; 
many pairs of curious eyes were upon the 
doomed lad, for already the news of his imme- 
diate transfer to Cairo had spread, and all knew 
what it signified. The black Sudanese guards, 
on the broad path of the high walls, paced neg- 
ligently their prescribed rounds, with loaded 
rifles, merciless hearts, and quick, sure hands. 

But out of the west, becoming stronger and 
warmer each hour, rushed the great volume of 
desert air. The Hkhamscen, the dreaded "sand- 
storm," was raging like a demon in the Libyan 



igoS.] 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



145 



Desert, and its long 
arms were reach- 
ing out over the 
narrow, green Nile 
valley. Even now 
the keen eyes of 
the young Bedouin 
caught glimpses, 
over the high wall,' 
of that which he 
was expecting to 
see; thin wisps of 
yellow sand, across 
the Nile, blown up 
in fantastic curves, 
as if tossed by in- 

I visible fingers. The 
Hkhamsccn had 
risen in its might, 
and was already 
renewing its old- 
time siege of the 
Pyramids of Da- 
shur and Sakka- 
rah ; but those 
mountains of rock 
were as invincible 
as ever, and the 
baffled storm-de- 

j mon was marshal- 
ing his forces, and 
flingingthem across 
the Nile. Ach- 
nied's heart beat 
high with hope, as 
the wind strength- 
ened, and the air 
began to fill with 
the fine yellow at- 
oms of the desert. 
On they came, 
like an invading 
pigmy host ; a 
yellowish swirling 
darkness more and 
more shrouded all 
objects, great and 
small. The fine 
sand, driven by 
the powerful wind, 
penetrated every 
crack and crevice 
in its path. Win- 
dows of human 
habitations were 
hastily closed and 

'THE PRISONER CROSSED HIS ARMS ON HIS BREAST WITH A LOOK OF QUIET CONFIDENCE." shuttCrS WCrC pUt 

Vol. XXXVI. -19. 




146 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



[Dec, 



up ; men spoke in 
subdued tones ; cattle 
sought shelter; even 
the stolid guards on 
the walls of Tourah 
retired to their tur- 
rets ; the deadly sand- 
storm was felt by 
them to be a sufficient 
guard against any 
attempted escape by 
prisoners. In the lit- 
tle railway-station and 
in the mud huts out- 
side the prison walls, 
all human life cow- 
ered and waited ; the 
whole world seemed 
subdued, terrified into 
silence. 

This was the bold, 
young Bedouin's op- 
portunity ; now was 
come the hour in 
which was held his 
future. 

He had ceased his 
nervous strides upon 
the graveled court, 
and had retreated to 
the shed, beneath the 
wall ; the place was 
deserted, all the other 
convicts having sought 
shelter in their cells. 
The darkness had 
become so dense that 
a human form could 
not be identified ten 
yards away. Ach- 
med's attitude of im- 
patient waiting was 
gone ; he now became 
absorbed in eager ac- 
tion. He drew from 
his waist-cloth some 
ointment which he 
had saved from the 
supplies given him by 
the prison surgeon ; 
this he applied vigor- 
ously to his ankles, 
rubbing it into the 
tissues and softening 
them ; for a moment, a 
look of anxiety came 
over his face as he 




" WITH EASY, STEADY MOTION, HE DRAWS HIMSELF UP, HAND OVER HAND. 



I9o8.] 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



147 



prepared to work his small, finely formed feet out 
of their bonds of iron ; had his feet been shaped 
like those of the Fellahin, with ugly, projecting 
heels, his plan would have failed ; but under the 
strong pressure of his determined grasp the 
manacles soon slipped from his flesh, and he cast 
them, with scorn, upon the ground. 

The air was now so hot and dense with the 
fine yellow atoms that breathing was difficult. 
Drawing from his neck its silk scarf, he dabbled 
it in a can of drinking-water which was kept 
upon a shelf under the shed ; when thoroughly 
wet he bound this carefully about his lower face, 
thus breathing through it the air which it 
strained of nearly all the sand and dust. 

But his eyes were becoming clogged with the 
pervasive, persistent foe; and he now took from 
his breast some spectacles of which he had pos- 
sessed himself, the night before, when a purblind 
nurse in the hospital ward laid them down ; and, 
having put them on and tied them firmly with a 
cord, he proceeded to force bits of cotton from 
the surgeon's stock (supplied to Achmed for his 
wounded back) around the edges of the lenses. 
In a few moments his eyes v/ere admirably pro- 
tected, and he was ready for his final, daring 
venture. 

With rapidity and confidence, shut in by the 
dense cloud of sand, the wind howling fiercely, 
as if to voice his defiance of his enemies, he 
threw off his garments. One after another he 
threw them off, until he stood naked, save for a 
loin-cloth, and lithe as a sculptured Perseus. 
Seizing his robe in his sinewy hands he tore it 
into long strips ; and when this was done, he 
carefully knotted the ends together. It was the 
longest part of his task ; but his fingers were deft, 
and the wind was increasing in fury ; the air 
was denser than ever with the showering yellow 
sand, and the circle of dim light in which he 
seemed to stand was narrowed to a few feet in 
diameter. 

Now he has finished his difficult work. The 
long, closely woven rope lies in loops around 
him, like the sinuous writing of his own Arabic 
tongue ; it spells a message of hope and life to 
the eager, daring young Arab, as though tran- 
scribed from the Koran he loves so well. 

Picking up a large pebble from the ground, 
Achmed ties it into one end of the long rope ; 
then, quickly coiling the rope over his arm, he 
issues, like a shapely Greek god, from beneath 
the shed ; and with sinewy arms he quickly climbs 
one of the shed supports and reaches its roof. 

The dark, frowning face of the stone wall 
hangs over him; nearly twenty feet high it still 



rises above his head, and its smooth, hard sur- 
face seems to defy him. But over the wall, 
dimly discernible in the dense gloom, stretches 
the mighty arm of the giant acacia. The young 
Bedouin knows exactly where it is ; he has made 
careful note of it; he has many a time looked at 
it, and wondered, and longed — now he is acting 
upon that knowledge gained. 

Holding the coils of the rope carefully free, 
he swings the end, weighted with the pebble, 
once or twice about his head, then launches it 
upward, and waits, with suspended breath. 

A dull thud, and the end comes back to him ; 
it has struck the branch, but has not gone over it. 

With every muscle drawn like steel wire, yet 
uttering no exclamation of disappointment, the 
resolute young Arab again gathers up the long 
rope, and again makes his throw. Only a dim, 
blurred transverse line, dark amid the yellowish 
air, serves to guide his aim. But it is enough ; 
the weighted rope-end comes not back ; and 
Achmed, with a smothered ejaculation, a prayer 
of thanks to Allah, slowly pays out his end of 
the line, and now lays hold of the weighted end, 
which has descended to him. 

His eager heart is pounding hard against his 
brown breast, as if itself a prisoner, seeking to 
escape; he pauses and listens; human ears, 
though half-clogged with sand, are now better 
guides than human eyes, in this thick, spectral 
gloom. He wonders, a moment, about the 
guards; he conjectures, for an instant, about 
the nature of the ground on the other side of 
the wall. A moment, only, he pauses ; then, with 
easy, steady motion he draws himself up, hand 
over hand ; the well-knotted rope bears safely his 
light weight, and, in a few seconds, he climbs into 
the acacia, and draws the trusty rope after him. 

Like a human animal, now gone back into the 
stage of living in trees, he creeps along the 
great branch, and reaches the massive trunk ; he 
cannot help a thrill, as he passes the line of the 
wall ; it has so long marked the boundary line 
between himself and his freedom. But it is con- 
quered at last ; its lofty, smooth, defiant surface 
has been humbled; he scorns it, and puts it be- 
hind him, with the rest of his hated prison life. 

Again looping his strong coil about the low- 
est outside branch of the mighty acacia, he 
makes an easy descent; and as he sets his feet 
on the firm earth, and glances up, he feels as if 
the great leafy giant, writhing and groaning in 
the grasji of the Hkhamseen, paused for one 
moment in its struggles and from outstretched 
arms and pliant fingers bestowed a blessing upon 
him, a mute prophecy of good fortune to come. 



{To be continued.) 




A STOP-OVER CHRISTMAS 



BY CLAIRE H. GURNEY 



"Come, boys, you will have to jump up now, if 
you want to get home for Christmas," and papa 
set the lamp on the table and pushed aside the 
curtains from the window at the foot of the bed 
where Russell and Giles lay so covered up by 
gay-colored patch-work quilts that nothing but 
the tops of their tousled brown heads could be 
seen. Russell stretched, turned over, and then 
snuggled still deeper into the warm bed, but Giles 
opened his big brown eyes and looked about him. 

"Why, farver" (he was an odd little fellow 
and never said "papa" and "mama" as the other 
•children did, but always "farver" and "muv- 
ver"), "why, farver, what makes it so dark when 
it is time to get up?" 

"It 's very early, Boy. Here at the farm 
they 're not such lazy folks as we are, and be- 
sides, it 's snowing hard." 

"Snowing! Really, papa?" and Russell opened 
his eyes and jumping out of l)ed ran to the win- 
dow. 

"Hurrah!" he shouted. "See how fast it 's 
coming down !" Giles was up in a minute, as 
eager as his brother, and papa helped him with 
his buttons (which was quite fair, you know, 
because he was such a little fellow), so that he 
was hardly a second behind Russell as they raced 
■down-stairs. 

Aunt Clara had breakfast all ready for them as 
soon as mama came in with Sylvia and Baby 
Laura. Uncle Tom shook his head as he looked 
out of the window. "It 's going to be a tough 
storm, Harold," he said to papa ; "you and Mar- 
garet and the children had better stay with us 
over Christmas. Your Aunt Clara and I 'd be 
more than glad to have you." 

"Yes, indeed !" echoed Aunt Clara. "You al- 



ways make such little nipping" visits that I de- 
clare I don't have time to see you before you 're 
off again." 

"We 'd love to stay if we could. Auntie," said 
Mr. Girdwood, "but you see I promised mother 
that we 'd take our Christmas dinner with her at 
home to-morrow, so we must go." 

"Your mother would be lonesome without you, 
that 's true," said Uncle Tom, "but I 'm not so 
sure as I 'd like to be that you '11 get home if this 
storm continues, and you might just as well be 
here as snowed up on the railroad. You 'd find 
that was n't much of a joke with four children 
and two of 'em nothing but babies. 

"Well," he went on after a few minutes, "if 
you think you must go, we '11 have to start pretty 
soon for it '11 take nearly an hour to get to the 
station, and the train is due at ten o'clock." 

So the boys put on their overcoats and mittens 
and pulled their caps down over their ears, 
Mama and Sylvia put on their cloaks, and Aunt 
Clara brought shawls and buffalo robes, in one 
of which papa wrapped Baby Laura so that she 
looked like an Eskimo baby. Then Jim, the hired 
man, drove up to the door with Dan and Jerry 
harnessed into the big double sleigh, and papa 
and Uncle Tom put them all in, — mama with 
Baby Laura in her lap and Sylvia and Giles on 
the back seat, and papa and Uncle Tom and 
Russell on the front, and away they went, 
so wrapped up in the fur robes that they 
could hardly turn around to shout a last good-by 
to Aunt Clara, who stood at the window wav- 
ing her handkerchief to them. The snow 
was getting deep, but Dan and Jerry were 
strong and pulled steadily, so that they reached 
the station in time for papa to buy the tickets and 



A STOP-OVER CHRISTMAS 



149 



for everybody to say good-by to Uncle Tom be- 
fore getting on the train. 

It was so stormy that very few people were 
traveling, so that there was plenty of room, and 
the children amused themselves by looking out 
of the windows, first on one side of the car and 
then on the other ; but in an hour or two they 
grew tired of this, for the train was going very 
slowly and the snow was falling so thick and fast 
that they could hardly see a bit of the outside 
world. The wind had begun to blow and every 
few minutes it would dash against the car, and 
when occasionally Russell could get a peep 
through the window he saw that the snow was 
piling up in great drifts across the track. Laura 



ally stopped, — then the engine gave two or three 
throbs and went jerking forward only to come to 
another stop, and this time there was no starting 
again. 

"What 's the matter, papa?" said Sylvia. 

"Are we snowed in?" asked Russell. 

"I 'm afraid so," answered Mr. Girdwood. 
"I '11 go forward and speak to the conductor." 

"May I go with you, papa ?" 

"Yes," and Mr. Girdwood and Russell went to 
find him. 

When they came back papa looked rather 
serious. "Yes," he said, in answer to their ques- 
tions, "we are snowed in and there is no pros- 
pect of our getting out at present ; the wind is 




'COME ALONG, ONE AND ALL ! ' SAID MR. BROWN. 



and Giles were so sleepy that mama let them lie 
down on the seats and have a nap; Sylvia tried 
to amuse herself by making a hat for Laura's 
doll out of a bit of ribbon that mama found in 
her bag, and Russell borrowed papa's fountain 
pen and wrote a letter to his chum, Charlie Pot- 
ter. The train went slower and slower and fin- 



increasing every minute and I think it could n't 
snow any harder than it is snowing now." 

"Then we 're stuck tight, farver?" said Giles, 
who was now awake. 

"Yes, Giles, 'stuck tight.' " 

"Won't we ever get home, farver?" and Giles' 
brown eyes looked very serious indeed. 



150 



A STOP-OVER CHRISTMAS 



[Dec, 



"Oh, yes, but not as soon as we expected." 

"Won't we get home in time for dinner?" 

"I 'm afraid not. But perhaps mama can give 
us something to eat. I saw Aunt Clara put a 
very nice-looking bundle into that bag." 

Mama took out the bundle and opened it, and 
there were enough chicken sandwiches and 
sponge cake for everybody, even the conductor 
and brakeman. After they had eaten their lun- 
cheon they played games for a while, but as the 
afternoon wore away they all grew weary. It 
was about four o'clock when suddenly they heard 
some one shouting, and in a few minutes there 
was a great stamping of feet and a hearty laugh 
and then the door opened and in came the con- 
ductor and with him a tall man wearing a leather 
jacket and high cowhide boots. In his hand was 
a big basket th^t he placed on the floor, and then 
he came along to where papa and Giles were 
seated. His face was so pleasant and kindly that 
mama and the children were quite ready to an- 
swer to his cheery greeting with a smile. He 
told them that his name was Brown and that his 
farm-house was only a short distance from the 
track, and that when he discovered that the train 
was blocked he thought he 'd come down with 
"some milk and doughnuts for the folks. But," 
he went on, "wife, she says to me, 'if there 's any 
women folk on the train brijng 'em up to the 
house, especially if there 's children with 'em,' 
and the conductor says that you are the only wo- 
man and that these are the only children on the 
train, ma'am, and we 'd be very glad to have you 
come up to the house. Of course, you 'd come 
too, sir." 

"You are very kind, Mr. Brown," began papa, 
"but — " 

"Oh, papa, don't say 'but,' " said Sylvia, "do let 
us go !" 

"Now that 's just right," said Mr. Brown, 
"come along, one and all ; the house is big enough 
and I 've a girl and a boy that '11 be tickled to 
pieces to have company. They 've got a Christ- 
mas tree all ready to light up after supper." 

"/ 'II go with you, Mr. Brown," said Giles. 

"Good !" said the farmer, "that 's the kind of 
talk I like." 

R-Ir. Girdwood laughed. "It is a most kind in- 
vitation, Mr. Brown, and Mrs. Girdwood and I 
accept it with pleasure. But will it be possible for 
these little folks and their mama to get through 
the snow?" 

"Why, I 've tunneled through the drifts from 
the house to the road, and the wind has blown 
the snow off, till the road 's as bare as the back 
of your hand down here to the tracks and we '11 
soon dig through this big bank by the train." 



So the brakeman and Mr. Brown dug a path 
to the road, and papa took Laura in his arms, 
and Mr. Brown took Giles on his shoulder, and 
off they started for the farm-house. i\Iama was 
a little afraid that the train might get started 
and go off without them, but Mr. Brown re- 
assured her. 

"Why, ma'am," he said, "they '11 get no snow- 
plow through this road before morning, and be- 
fore they 'd get that train dug out and started 
there 'd be such a tooting of whistles and blow- 
ing off of steam that you 'd hear it a mile away. 
Besides, Jim Pearson, — he 's the brakeman, — told 
me he 'd come over and let us know if there was 
any chance of starting." 

Mrs. Brown greeted her company warmly and 
in a few minutes the children felt as well ac- 
quainted with Walter and Esther Brown as 
though they had known them for years. Walter 
was a fine boy twelve years old, just Sylvia's age, 
and Esther was nine, a year younger than Rus- 
sell. 

After they had eaten what Russell and Giles 
called the best supper that ever was, they all 
went into the room where the Christmas tree 
stood. It was decorated with bright tinsel stars 
and festoons of popcorn and cranberries, and 
when Mr. Brown lighted the candles it looked 
very gay and pretty. Sylvia gazed at it a mo- 
ment, then she whispered to her mother. Mrs. 
Girdwood smiled and nodded, then she and Syl- 
via left the room, coming back in a few minutes 
with some little packages that they handed to Mr. 
Brown to hang on the tree. What a merry time 
they had ! At papa's suggestion they formed a 
ring and danced gaily around the tree ; then Mr. 
Brown took the packages down and distributed 
them. How surprised Russell was to have a fine 
bow and arrow handed to him! (He did n't know 
that Walter had taken it from his store of cher- 
ished toys.) Sylvia got a lovely photograph of 
Esther ; Giles was made happy by a big paper sol- 
dier cap ; and Laura had a paper doll that she 
thought was a marvel of beauty. Then the pack-, 
ages that Sylvia had hung on the tree were taken 
down and the Browns were surprised in their 
turn, for there was a tiny parcel marked with 
Esther's name, which when it was opened proved 
to be the pretty turquoise ring that Sylvia had 
quietly slipped from her finger ; papa's stylo- 
graphic pen went into Walter's pocket ; and 
mama had found a dainty handkerchief for Mrs. 
Brown. Little Giles had insisted upon giving 
Mr. Brown his most precious possession, a beau- 
tiful new knife. Mr. Brown thanked him warmly 
for it, and told him he should always keep it. 

So the evening passed away ; they laughed and 



I908.] 



A STOP-OVER CHRISTMAS 



151 



talked and ate walnuts and popcorn until Laura 
was fast asleep in mama's lap, and Esther and 
Giles found it hard to keep their eyes open, and 
even the bigger ones were growing sleepy ; then 
off they went to bed. The snow had ceased fall- 
ing, and as Mrs. Brown drew aside the curtain 



hardly say enough to thank Farmer Brown and 
his wife for their kindness, and the children 
parted with Walter and Esther with much regret. 
"It seems as if we 'd always known each other, 
does n't it ?" said Esther,' and Sylvia and the 
others agreed with her. 




WHAT A MEKKY TIME THEY HAD ! 



they all peeped out and saw the stars shining in 
the clear dark sky. 

"I hope they won't get the snow-plow through 
for a week," said Walter, as he led Russell into 
the cozy bedroom they were to share that night. 

"So do I," answered Russell; "this is one of 
the best Christmases I ever had." 

But before the sun rose the next morning the 
great snow-plow, with a gang of men with shov- 
els, had arrived, and there was only time to dress 
and eat a hurried breakfast before Jim Pearson 
came running in to say that the train would start 
in a few minutes. Mr. and Mrs. Girdwood could 



"We '11 stop and see you next summer, when 
we go to Uncle Tom's," said Russell. 

But papa said that Mr. and Mrs. Brown must 
surely promise to come to Boston to make a re- 
turn visit, and bring Walter and Esther with | 
them. And he would n't let Mr. Brown say no. 

Then the whistle blew long and loud and 
everybody ran for the train, shouting, "Good-by, 
good-by, Walter !" "Good-by, Esther." 

And slowly the engine moved off, bearing with 
it the happy little stop-over Christmas travelers 
in time for them to have their promised Christ- 
mas dinner with their grandmother. 



OLD FABLES BROUGHT 
UP TO DATE 

(Just for fun, aud ivith apologies to ^-Esofi) 

BY C. J. BUDD 




I. THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE 

A Hare meeting a Tortoise one day, remarked as 
he looked at the Tortoise's heavy shell and short 
feet: "I think I could beat you in a race." 

"All right," answered the Tortoise; "it is not 
every race that is won by a 'hare.' " 

At the hour appointed for the contest, the 
Hare soon left the Tortoise out of sight, and, 
feeling sure of winning, lay down by the road- 
side to take a nap. After a half-hour's sleep and 
rest, he resumed the race. But the Tortoise had 





// 



turned into a wayside garage and hired an auto- 
mobile ; and so he soon overtook the fleet-footed 
Hare. 

The Hare was going at the limit of his speed, 
but the Tortoise was going at the speed limit, 
and won the race by three miles and seven laps. 

When the Hare, in the course of time, arrived 
at the post, he said with a sigh: "You '11 never 
catch me in an endurance race again." 
MORAL 

Foot-racing is healthy, but motoring is siviftcr. 



WHEN THE WIND BLOWS 

I LOVE to hear the wind blow, on mornings in the Spring; 

I think it blows us grass and flowers and birds that like to sing. 

I love to hear it blowing, in Summer's days of ease ; 

It sets the ripe wheat curtsying and whispers in the trees. 

And tips the tall white lilies that smell as sweet as musk.— 

But I love best the wind of Fall that blows the leaves at dusk. 

The brown leaves dance before it, and rustle as they go; 

The red leaves on the maple-trees come flying to the show. 

I 'm glad that Winter 's coming ; I 'm sure as I can be 

The wind that blows the leaves at dusk blows happy days to me. 

When the wind blows, when the wind goes, whirling down the street- 
All day long it sings a song that 's made for dancing feet. 
I have a hundred wishes that no one ever knows, 
But many or few, they all come true when the Fall wind blows. 

152 



■^ 




Place: The home of Santa Claus near the North 

Pole. 
Time : The week before Christmas. 
Char.\cters : 

Santa Claus. 

Mother Goose. 



Robinson Crusoe. 
Friday. 



Jennie Wren, sewing girl. Captain Kidd. 



Jack P>ost, man of 

all work. 
Dame Rumor. 
Mother Shipton. 
William Tell. 
Lo, the Poor Indian. 



Robin Hood. 
Man in the Moon. 
The Clerk of the 

Weather. 
Dick Whittington. 
Pocahontas. 



«.mi4. 



ACT I 

{Mother Goose and Jennie JVrcn at left, busily se-a'- 
ing. Tables and shelves piled high zvith toys. White 
skins on floor. Sparkling chandeliers, candles, etc.) 
Jack Frost (dressed in zvhite with spangles, 
pointed cap, pointed shoes, and wand. Enters at 
right zvith rush and zvhoop, scattering snozv and 
breaking icicles). Hello, Mother Goose. Hello, 
Jennie Wren. Oh, but I 've had a hard time chas- 
ing up his reindeer for Santa Claus! I 've got them 
herded into a mossy field over in the corner of Ice- 
land, and I hope they 
will stay awhile now. 
Mother Goose 

(szveeping up the litter 
made by Jack). Dear 
me. Jack, what is the 
need of coming in in 
such a bluster and 
mussing the house this 
way? 

Jack. Excuse me, 
Mother Goose. I just 
keep forgetting. My, 
but it is hot here ! It 
almost gives me chil- 
blains. Actually, the 
thermometer is only 
five degrees below zero 
in this room. I should 
think you 'd melt. Jen- 
nie. (Opens a zvindow, tweaks Jennie's ear. Starts 
to skate across the room and falls dozvn.) 

Jennie (zvith a start). Why, Jack, how did you 
come to fall? 

Vol. XXXVI. -20. 




thing since 
m starving. 



Jack. Oh, Hoi-with-standing, Jennie (turns 
handspring). 

Jennie. Oh, Jack, what a bad pun! Now see if 
you can't subside and not make any more trouble for 
Mother Goose. You know it is only three more 
days before Santa has to start off with his pack, 
and there are many things for you to do to help him 
get read}'. 

Jack. Oh, excuse me, everybody. I wish I could 
learn calm, cool manners. Maybe I could behave 
better if I was n't so hungry. Could n't I have 
something to eat? I have n't eaten a 
breakfast but three tallow candles, and I 

Mother Goose. Yes, you 
shall have a little snack 
right now. Jack, as supper 
will not be ready for some 
time yet. You must attend 
the door to-night, as the 
Auld Lang Syne Club 
holds its annual meeting 
here this evening, you 
know. (She hurries out.) 

Jack. I wish Santa 
would let me run the 
wireless, instead of always 
having me tend reindeer. 

Mother Goose (entering 
with tray). Here, Jack, is 
a little luncheon for you — 
a bowl of ice-cream, a 
piece of frosted cake, and 
some iced tea. 

Jack (seating himself). 
are the best cook at the Pole. Oh, how good and 
cold everything tastes. But where is Santa? I 
thought he was too busy to leave home to-day. 

Mother Goose. He went out a little while ago to 
see if there were any messages at the Wireless Sta- 
tion. He thinks he has at last got the wireless line 
in working order. It runs from the Pole now to 
every school yard in the country, you know. He 
expects great fun in hearing the children of the 
world planning for their Christmas trees and stock- 
ings. There will be no more mistakes in presents 
now, for every boy and girl will get just what 
Santa hears him or her wishing for. 

Jennie (looking out). Why, here comes dear old 
Santa now, and he looks quite sad. I wonder if the 




Oh, Mother Goose, you 



154 HOW CHRISTMAS AVAS SAVED, OR THE SORROWS OF SANTA CLAUS [Dec, 




UMTHEHOOW 



wireless line is out of order after all the trouble he 
has had trying to get connections made. 

Santa (enters, and flings himself in easy-ehair) . 
Well, Mother Goose and Jennie, you can put away 
your needles, and Jack, just turn the reindeer loose 
again. There will be no Christmas gifts for any- 
body this year, nor any other year. 

All. No Christmas gifts! Never again any 
Christmas gifts ! 

Santa. That 's what I said. Never again any 
Christmas gifts ! Santa Claus will never be seen 
away from the North Pole again ! 

Mother Goose. Why, 
Santa, you might as well 
say there will be no more 
skating or coasting. Win- 
ter without Santa Claus and 
Christmas is unbelievable. 
I can't bear to think of your 
never again carrying Christ- 
mas gifts to the children. 
How can you think of stop- 
ping that custom? 

Santa Claus. Ifeeljustas 
bad as you do about stopping 
my annual visit and my gifts. 
Ever since I can remember 
I 've been distributing gifts 
to children at Christmas 
time ; and until an hour ago 
I expected to keep it up al- 
ways, but now Santa Claus 
and his Christmas rounds 
are at an end forever ! 
Mother Goose. But what has happened, Santa, 

to put this into your mind? Have you had a fall on 

the ice and do you feel a little dazed? 

Jennie. This is one of your jokes, Santa. 

Jack. Oh, come off, now, Santa. You almost 
gave me a chill. Let 's get a big box of those drums 
and whistles packed up for the sleigh. 

Santa Claus. No; I am in dead earnest. My 
head never was clearer. I '11 tell you how it is. You 
will hardly believe me, but up at the Wireless to-day 
I got the shock of my life. I went up and sat on an 
iceberg at the foot of the Pole to listen to what the 
children of different playgrounds were saying about 
Christmas, and what gifts they expected, and so on. 
I had my note-book ready to write what this one and 
that one wanted. And — oh, I can hardly tell you — I 
heard children from three different cities talking 
about Christmas and saying they did not believe in 
Santa Claus. 

All. Not believe in Santa Claus? Impossible! 
Preposterous! And that, too, after all the gifts — 
dolls and Noah's arks and bags of candy you have 
scattered around the world ! 

Jack. Maybe they think I have been chasing rein- 
deer to the end of the rainbow for — nobody ! 

Santa Claus. I knew you 'd hardly believe it. 
I would not believe it myself if I had n't heard the 
words just as plainly as I hear you all talking now. 
One little girl in Boston was talking to quite a lot 
of little comrades. "Pooh," she said, "no well-in- 
formed person nowadays believes in Santa Claus. 
Santa Claus is only a medieval myth" — 

Jennie. Medieval! What 's that? There 's noth- 



ing evil about you, Santa. You are just three hun- 
dred pounds of solid goodness. 

Santa Claus. Oh, Jennie, I thought they all 
loved me as you do; and it is hard to find they don't 
believe in me, after all my years of Christmas visits. 

Mother Goose. Go on, Santa dear. What else 
did you hear over that horrid wireless line? 

Santa Claus. Well, some boys were talking in 
a school yard in Chicago, and one of them said 
loudly : "You can't fool me. There is n't any Santa 
Claus, and there never was. He is nothing but a 
picture in the books, like Uncle Sam !" And he was 
a boy with a pair of mittens on his hands that I 'd 
given him last Christmas. He was that curly-haired 
boy I think, Jennie, that you 've been knitting mittens 
for for ten years, each year a size larger. 

Jennie. Oh, is n't he ungrateful? And here I 
have another pair almost finished for him this year, 
too. {Holds up red mittens.) 

Jack. I '11 give that fellow a nip yet. I '11 make 
him believe in me, anyhow ! 

Mother Goose. Those certainly were cruel 
speeches, Santa. But let us hear the worst. What 
else did they say? 

Santa Claus. Some little girls in Lcs Angeles 
were at the school gate and I heard one saying, "Oh, 
Santa Claus will do for babies. But when you are 
seven you ought to say he 's just make-believe, like 
the Sand Man and such folks." 

Mother Goose. I don't wonder you feel hurt, 
Santa, after all your kindness to children. But you 
must remember that these were only three out of all 
the school yards in the country. There must be hun- 
dreds of other children who do believe in you. Per- 
haps these just happened to be the few who don't 
believe in fairies, either. There are some such 
strange children I have heard. 

Jennie. Oh, Peter Pan 
will convince those foolish 
children who don't believe 
in fairies. 

Mother Goose. Never 
mind, Santa. I am sure 
there cannot be many chil- 
dren of that unbelieving 
kind. But I wish you had 
never had your wireless 
rigged up. It seems only to 
make you unhappy. 

Santa Claus (sighing). 
It has made me unhappy. I 
never felt so sad in all my 
life before. I shall order 
the wireless telegraph dis- 
continued to-morrow. I 
shall give up the wireless 
line and the Christmas busi- 
ness altogether. — Dear me, 
how lonesome I shall be for the children! 

Mother Goose. I shall not be sorry to have you 
give up the wireless line, Santa. I can't bear to think 
of your stopping this lovely custom of gift-giving. 
You have made so many children happy, and so 
many little believing hearts will miss you. 

Santa Claus. It does seem sad. Mother Goose. 
But I shall never have the heart to set out again at 
Christmas time with the bells jingling, and the rein- 







i9o8.] HOW CHRISTMAS WAS SAVED, OR THE SORROWS OF SANTA GLAUS 155 



deer galloping and the sleigh flashing over the snow. 
] shall never again go crowding down the chimneys 
to cram stockings and load the children's trees. All 
that pleasure is over forever, and I used to be so 
happy and so busy at Christmas ! 

Jack. But I should think you would be glad 
enough to give up that stunt of scrooging down 
chimneys. Suppose you 'd get stuck some night! 

Jennie. I 'm sorry for the children who will ex- 
pect you, Santa, but I am glad you will not have to 
work so hard any more. You have given your whole 
time to getting ready for Christmas, just to make 
other people happy. 

SantaClaus. Oh, 
I 'd gladly take all 
the danger and all 
the trouble of that 
Christmas journey 
and all the work of 
getting ready for it, 
if I were sure the 
children would care 
to have me come. 
But to be just an 
intruder, it is too 
much. I shall never 
go Christmasing 

again. Never, never, 
never ! 

Jennie. Oh, Santa, 
don't be so sure of 
that. Let 's think it 
over. If you don't 
go, what shall we do 
with all these toys 
and dolls in the 
attic and cellar and 
on the shelves here? 
Santa Claus. Oh, have a rummage sale of them, 
Jennie. 

Jack. But what use shall we have for the rein- 
deer that I have been watching all year? 

Santa Claus. Oh, give them to the Peary ex- 
pedition when it gets to the North Pole. Really, 
I 'd be glad to go just as I always have if I thought 
I was welcome ; but you see how it is ! I must not 
intrude where I 'm not wanted. 

Mother Goose. Santa, don't decide yet. The 
Auld Lang Syne Club, as you know, is to meet here 
to-night. Let us put the case before those old friends 
and hear what they advise. What do you say to 
that? 

Santa Claus. That is a good suggestion. These 
people of the Auld Lang Syne Club have all had ex- 
perience in the world. They will be able to give me 
an expert opinion. I will do whatever they all seem 
to think best. 

ACT II 

(Same scene an hour later. Santa Claus, Mother 
Goose, and Jennie Wren stand in a rotv, center, 
shaking hands with guests. Jack Frost at door 
shouts names of guests as they appear R. at ring of 
door bell.) 

Mother Goose. I do love to have the Auld Lang 
Syne Club meet with us. Santa, you must try to 
look a little pleasanter. Just as soon as the guests 
are all here we will tell them our troubles and be 



guided by their advice. So let us now cheer up and 
act as if nothing sad had happened. 



a little crooked, Santa. 
There, you look better. 





Jennie. Your collar is 
Now let the smiles come. 

Jack. The Man in the 
Aloon. 

{Enter the Man in the 
Moon, lantern in hand, 
yelloiv robe, and smiling 
face.) 

The Man in the 
Moon. Good evening, 
Santa and Mother Goose 
and Jennie. I hope I am 
not too early. I always 
seem to come down too 
soon. (Stands next to 
Jennie L.) 

Santa. No, no. You 
are never too early to 
please us. We like to see 
your shining face at any 
time. 

Jack. William Tell of Switzerland. 

William Tell (Tyrolcse costume, an apple in 
hand, bozv and arrow under arm). Good evening, 
everybody, what pleasant weather! Thirteen degrees 
below zero. It reminds me of our Alps at home. 
(Stands next to the Man in the Moon.) 

Jennie. How is your son, Mr. Tell? Is he just 
as brave as ever? Do you ever shoot apples off his 
head nowadays? 

William Tell. Thank you, Jennie. Little Billy 
is well and happy. He is always a fearless child. 
He is tending a herd of chamois on Mt. Blanc this 
winter. Yes, we often practice a little sharpshooting. 
Jack (aside). Now that chamois herding is a job 
I 'd like to hold down myself. (Aloud.) The Clerk 
of the Weather. 

The Clerk of the Weather (carrying thermom- 
eter, iveathercock, telescope, umbrella, zveather bul- 
letin). Good evening, all. 
I am so glad to be here. I 
had a great time getting my 
work arranged so I could 
"EJablnsoij get off. I am afraid now 
- (looking at bulletin) that 
there will be floods or bliz- 
zards or something. There 
are so many hitches in a 
business like mine. (Stands 
next to Tell.) 

Jack. Robinson Crusoe 
and Friday. 

(Robinson Crusoe and 
Friday are dressed in furs. 
Friday leads toy goat. Jack 
biOivs on Friday, who shiv- 
cis.) 

Robinson Crusoe. Good 
evening, Santa and Mother 
Goose. Allow me to present 
Friday. No, thank you, we 
This weather is so different 
from the climate in the tropics, you know. (Crosses 
and stands by Mother Goose.) 

The Clerk OF the Weather (/ar//y). Now. that 's 
just the way it goes. It is n't warm enough for you. 



C-ruSot; 




will retain our furs. 



156 HOW CHRISTMAS WAS SAVED, OR THE SORROWS OF SANTA GLAUS [Dec. 







Robinson, and here 's William Tell who thinks it 
just right. It is hard to please everybody on weather. 
I get almost distracted at the complaints all over the 
planet. It keeps me changing things all the time. 
Jack. Mother Shipton. 
Mother Shipton {very sol- 
emn and important). Yes, here 
I am. I came in one of those 
carriages without horses that 
they call automobiles. Really 
they ought to be called Ship- 
tonians in honor of me, for it 
was I who gave the idea of them 
to the world. We prophets are 
seldom believed, though, I sup- 
pose, we are lucky not to be 
stoned. 

Jack. How about 1881. 
Mother Shipton? Why did n't 
you hit that date a little closer 
for the world to come to an 
end? 

Mother Shipton (stands 
next to Crusoe and Friday). 
That was simply a misprint, young man. Just 
you wait long enough and you will see the world 
come to an end yet. Wait till 2881 and see what 
happens ! 

Jack. Rip Van Winkle and Schneider. 
Rip Van Winkle {leading toy dog). Goot efe- 
ning, goot efening. So I bring mein little dog 
Schneider. I am so lonesome already ven I don't 
have along this schmall dog, ain't it? Mein frau 
like not Schneider never in the house. Have you 
some objectifications mit him. Mother Goo-ze? 
{Stands by Mother Shipton.) 

! Mother Goose. Not at all. Rip. He seems a very 
pleasant dog. You must always bring him with you. 
Jack {aside)., I say, I 'd like a game of ninepins 
on the ice with Rip. {Aloud ) Dick Whittington 
and the cat. 

Jennie. Oh, Mr. Whittington, good evening. I 
am so glad to see you and the cat. I have so often 
heard of this wise old pussy of yours. 

Dick Whittington. Oh, you don't see me any- 
where without that little mascot of mine. Here, 
Tabby, don't be afraid of Schneider. Schneider is 
a good little dog. {Dog chases cat.) 
Jack. Captain Kidd and Robin Hood. 
Captain Kidd {dressed as a pirate with cutlas, 
earrings, etc.). Here we all meet again on this 
pleasant occasion. It is seldom we old rovers have 
this home feeling anywhere on the globe. We go 
cruising around all the time visiting scenes of old. 
But you know, Mother Goose, we always make a 
point of coming to the Auld Lang Syne Club to meet 
with you, even if we have to come from Cape Horn 
or Cape of Good Hope. 

Robin Hood {in hunter's green). Yes, yes, Santa, 
we look forward all the year to this quiet evening 
with you. I am happier here than I am anywhere 
except with my merry men in Sherwood Forest. The 
Auld Lang Syne meeting is worth a trip across the 
planet. {Kidd goes R. Robin goes L.) 
Jack. Dame Rumor. 

Dame Rumor {spectacles and ear trumpet, enters 
talking very fast). I am sorry to be so late, but I 
met so many people on the way and there were so 



Whiainotbii 



many things to tell and to hear that I thought I 
never should get here. They say — {goes zvhispering 
to Mother Shipton). 

Jack. Pocahontas and Lo, the Poor Indian. 

Pocahontas {dressed, as is Lo, in Indian costume, 
beads, feathers, etc.). Lo and I stopped to see the 
Falls of Minnehaha and that has made us late, I am 
afraid. We always linger at that lovely place. 

Mother Goose. No, no, Pocahontas.. You are in 
good time. You must stay all the longer for being 
a little tard}'. 

Dame Rumor. Santa, why are you not laughing 
and joking as usual? I never saw you so downcast. 

Mother Goose. Really, Dame Rumor, Santa 
Glaus is feeling quite sad this evening. He will tell 
you all about what is weighing on his spirits, and I 
hope the wisdom of this good company will help him 
to look at matters more cheerfully. 

Santa Claus. Yes, friends, I am sorry to appear 
so sad on an occasion that ought to be so happj' — an 
occasion when we old friends 
meet after a long separation. 

Rip Van Winkle. Yes, yes, 
I haf never so much joyness 
any more as in this house, 
Santa. Here only is the beo- 
ples that can remember mit me 
the happy times long ago. 

Dame Rumor. They say you 

used to be grumbled at a good 

deal in those happy days. Rip. 

Jennie. Oh, now, Dame 

Rumor, let bygones be bygones. 

Please all listen to what Santa 

Claus has to tell. I want very 

much to see what the Auld 

Lang Syne Club will advise 

him to do. Go on, dear Santa. 

Santa Claus. Well, my friends, I thought I. 

would try the experiment this year of running a 

wireless line from the North Pole to most of the 

school yards in the country in order to hear the 

children telling what 

they would like to 

have for Christmas. 

Dame Rumor. 

Dear me, I 'd like to 

have a wireless line 

connecting with. 

every home in the 

countr\' ! It was a '' 

fine idea, Santa. '" 

Robinson Crusoe. J 

I wish we had had 

one down on the >;- 

island, Friday. \l 

Santa Claus. 
Well, I have just 
got the connections 
made, and to-day I 
went to the Pole to 
spend the forenoon 
taking notes from school grounds in various parts 
of the country. And, to my utter astonishment, I 
heard children in each section of the nation all say- 
ing they did not believe in Santa Claus ! 

All (laughing). Not believe in Santa Claus! 
How ridiculous I 




Winkls. 




i9o8.] HOW CHRISTMAS WAS SAVED, OR THE SORROWS OF SANTA CLAUS 157 



Dame Rumor. Oh, Santa Claus, you don't take 
that. seriously, do you? Why, I have heard that gos- 
sip for years, and I have also heard people saying 
that they did not believe the story of George Wash- 
ington chopping down the cherry-tree. And yet I 
used to know a lady who knew a lady whose cousin's 
brother-in-law had a piece of cherry-pie made from 
cherries that grew on that tree before George ever 
had the hatchet, — yes, indeed ! 

William Tell. Santa, we are all in the same 
boat. Don't let such remarks trouble your mind. 
It 's the fate of every popular character to be dis- 
believed. People have gone so far as to discredit 
me and the story of the shooting of the apple off 
little William's head. Think of that! 

Dame Rumor. Yes, William, I have heard that 
apple shooting contradicted, too, and was n't that 
charming song, "In the Shade of the Old Apple 
Tree," written in honor of a tree that sprang from 
some of those seeds that you shot out of the apple 
on little William's head that day? 

Pocahontas. Santa, you must not let such gibes 
hurt your feelings. My own existence has been de- 
nied over and over, 
notwithstanding John 
Smith's testimony. 
One must simply live 
such things down. 

Lo, THE Poor In- 
dian (soletniily). Po- 
cahontas is right, 
Santa. Don't you 
know there is a theory 
among critics that I 
exist only in the pages 
of Cooper's Indian 
stories? Think of 
just being shut up in 
a book all the time! 

Jack. Would n't 
that make you gloomy? 
Robinson Crusoe. I 
can understand how 
Lo feels. For it is 
now claimed by critics that a certain Alexander 
Selkirk instead of myself was the hero of my 
adventures. Think of having the ground taken from 
under your feet like that! Here is Friday and here 
is the goat, and yet they say there is no Robinson 
Crusoe ! 

Friday. If Robinson Crusoe did n't discover me 
then I am not discovered yet, and I never made those 
tracks. 

Rip Van Winkle. Just alike mit me come all 
dese peoples. Some beople say now I haf not hat 
that nap already, and we haf not seen that game of 
ninepins in dose Kaatskils, ain't it, Schneider. 

Captain Kidd. Have n't I been ruled out of ex- 
istence, too? But wait till they find my buried trea- 
sure,' some day! Then they will know that those 
piles of gold were never hidden without hands. Oh, 
my name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed. . . . Ha ha ! 

Robin Hood. Well, Santa, t'ney have long had me 
down as a fabulous character myself, and I suppose 
I 'm out of it. But then just think what they say- of 
the great King Arthur ! I understand that King Ar- 
thur and all the Knights of the Round Table are now 
considered merely as romance, if you please. So 
you see we are all in good company, my friends. 



■Kyrnaf 




VZii 



Dick Whittington. Yes, I also belong to the 
large class of the unbelieved-in. But Tabby and I 
are not concerned al^out what 
others think. We just deserve 
to have friends, and then it 's 
up to the people to love us. 
Don't you see ? 

Jennie. Well, if anybody 
has ever earned love it is our 
faithful old Santa Claus. 

All. Yes, indeed it is. 
Everybody that knows him 
loves Santa Claus. 

The Man in the Moon. 
Santa, when you haye been 
laughed out of existence as 
often as I have, you can well 
complain. Why, I have been 
called everything from a piece 
of green cheese to an extinct 
volcano ! But you never see me moping over it. 
I just keep a shining face., clouds or no clouds. 

The Clerk of the Weather. Yes, I will vouch 
for that. The Man in the Moon is always beamy. 
And, Santa, just note how I send the rain on the 
just and unjust alike, although they all say there is 
no such person as I, and call the weather itself just 
a meteor-o-log-i-cal phe-nom-e-non. No, Santa, do 
not mind a few chance remarks. Those children 
will know more by and by. 

Dame Rumor. Santa, there are still hundreds and 
thousands who do believe in you ; for I have heard 
children all over the world, talking of your loving- 
kindness. I mvself al- 




Lo ! rtje poor rnn!i&.rs V 




ways take pa'ins to tell 
what you have brought 
to this one and that one. 
Santa Claus. Dear 
friends, I have noted 
what you say and it 
really cheers me very 
-^ much to find that I am 

JfiiMP'^1^ I ^--^^i "'-'^ alone in being dis- 

eln^^R^ ^ -as^aJ ^ believed in. 

Mother Goose. Then 
you will forgive the 
children whom you over- 
heard, Santa, and you 
will not desert the faith- 
ful ones who have al- 
ways loved you? 

Jennie. And you will 
not think of that sorrow 
again, and you zvill go 
down with the reindeer 

as usual and take those ten thousand dolls to the 

ten thousand good little girls? 

Jack. Oh, forget it, Santa, and take down those 
horns and drums for the boys on that waiting list. 
Think of the fun those kiddies will have ! 

All. Oh yes, Santa, the world cannot spare you. 
We love you, and the children love you. 

Santa Cl.a.us {smiling at Mother Goose and the 
rest). Your words give me new courage. Yes, I 
will go on as if nothing had happened. I will never 
desert the dear children. They shall have their 
Christmas gifts as long as there is a Santa Claus. 

curtain {and distribution of gifts). 



1ST. NICH01:AS cooking CLV5 




THANKSGIVING ^TIDBITS 

BY CHARLOTTE BREWSTER JORDAN 



1. LOG CABINS OF CANDIED ORANGE PEEL. 

2. SALTED ALMONDS. 

Let grown folks cook substantials 
In Thanksgiving accord 

While we prepare the tidbits 
To grace the festive board. 



3. PEPPERMINT FUDGE. 
i. SALAD SATELLITES. 



Dissolve sugar in water hot 
In which the peel was cooked; 

Then simmer in the syrup, 
Nor have it overlooked 



LOG CABINS OF CANDIED ORANGE 
PEEL 

Save all the skins of oranges 

And soak them overnight 
In water slightly salted 

To make them taste just right. 







INGREDIENTS. 



Then cook until quite tender 
And pare away the white. 

Cutting the peel in narrow strips 
To make a dainty sight. 



158 



That every piece is coated well. 

Spread them upon a pan 
And sprinkle well with sugar white, 

Then dry as best you can. 

Now build the strips log cabin-wise 

Upon a fancy plate. 
And guests will say who eat them up, 

"This tidbit 's simply great!" 



SALTED ALMONDS 

If you wish to have your almonds 

The daintiest in town, 
Just try this way of making them 

An even, golden brown ! 

First drop in boiling water, 
A minute let them stand. 

Then turn on the cold water. 
Rub off the skins by hand. 

In white of &gg half beaten 
Roll each one carefully. 

Then salt and put in oven 
To crisp them thoroughly. 



THANKSGIVING TIDBITS 



159 






My>-i<7 (Ti /}a^li _ >^ 



INGREDIENTS. 

Occasionally stir them 'round 
And you will soon espy 

The nuts turning a creamy brown 
Well crisped and yet not dry. 

PEPPERMINT FUDGE 
Two cups of soft brown sugar, 

Three-quarter cup of cream, 
And butter size of walnut 

Give richness in extreme. 



Then, just before you take from fire, 

Vanilla bear in mind, 
And oil of peppermint also, 

The strongest you can find. 

Now beat until it 's sugary, 

Pour into buttered plate ; 
Then cut in squares when cool, and serve 

This tidbit up-to-date. 

SALAD SATELLITES 

First crisp the crackers slightly 

By spreading them on tins. 
And warming in the oven. 

Then spread the Butter Thins 
With cream cheese laid on thickly, 

Pimolas cut crosswise ; 
Next deck the white cheese quickly, — 

An appetite surprise. 




INGREDIENTS. 



Boil these till thick and creamy. 
And meanwhile stir it all 

Until a bit in water dropped 
Will form a waxy ball. 



In geometric patterns 

Now place the little rounds 
(About five to a cracker) 

Upon the cheesy grounds. 
Revolved with toothsome salad. 

With coffee or with tea, 
These dainty disks of color 

Make best of company. 





r( J' — I — ^ 

I 1 



is dreadful to be ticklish,'' 
The snow^ man said /'And oh! 
How horrid when they're fitting 
The ribs where they must go!" 



SANTA CLAUS'S NOTE-BOOK" 



BY LILIAN B. MINER 



Cordelia was a little girl who lived in a big 
house full of sunshine and flowers all the year 
round. Cordelia had about everything she 
wanted — ice-cream for dinner twice a week, and 
new pink and blue hair-ribbons every day or so. 
Strange to say, she was not a spoiled child, but 
a sweet and simple little girl, who believed in 
fairies and in Santa Claus and who never quar- 
reled with her small brother, though he had 
snapping black eyes and was called "Fighting 
Bob." 

A good name it was too, for the only toys Bob 
cared about were soldiers and make-believe weap- 
ons. With his toy sword he beheaded Cordelia's 
nasturtiums, and charged upon and shattered 
her maidenhair fern. He rescued her dolls 



from the Indians, only to leave them in the barn 
to be trampled under the horse's feet, or in the 
garden to be soaked with rain. As a war-horse 
in a rage, he chewed her gold beads quite out of 
shape with his sharp-edged Httle teeth. But he 
was only four years old, so his sister forgave him 
everything. Cordelia had a motherly care for 
everybody. If the cook was tired she pricked 
the pies for her and filled the tarts. She brought 
cold lemonade to the hard-working ice-man and 
doughnuts to the hungry paper-boy. When the 
teacher looked sad, Cordelia smiled at her, and at 
recess gave her half of her orange; when the 
minister called she took care to tell him that she 
liked his sermon about little Samuel. 

At Christmas time of course Cordelia wanted 



SANTA CLAUS'S NOTE-BOOK" 



161 



to give presents to everybody. Even before the but Cordelia left him to his vi^arriors and ran tO' 
Thanksgiving turkey was bought she had begun curl upon the library couch and think. What 
to go shopping, with a list nearly a foot long, should they give him? Something nice,— and 
sat patiently snipping and sewing at shaving- something useful. Next year she could embroider 
cases, pen-wipers, and pin- 
cushions, and laid away 
in a big box little par- 
cels labeled "For Uncle 
Harry," "For Aunt Ber- 
tha," "Helen," "Roberta," 
"Marget." 

A day or two before 
Christmas Cordelia was in 
the sewing-room in the 
midst of a whirlpool of 
holly, ribbon, tissue paper, 
and Christmas cards. She 
was doing up packages 
and wondering what Santa 
Claus would bring to her 
and Bob. For, no matter 
what some people said, Cor- 
delia knew there was a 
Santa Claus. Other folks 
left presents at the door or 
sent them through the post- 
office ; but Santa Claus came 
down the chimney and left 
the best things of all beside 
the fireplace, where she and 
Bob found them early 
Christmas morning. Dear 
old Santa ! How she would 
like to see him ! If only he 
would not come so quietly, 
but would make a friendly 
call now and then. She 
wanted to thank him for 
her pony and her watch, 
which she had n't expected 
until she was grown up, for 
her big doll and her fur 
coat, and her writing-desk, 
and a hundred other things. 

All at once an idea came 
to Cordelia. Strange it had 
never come before ! Why 
not give Santa Claus a 
present? Had he been for- 
gotten—he, the big-hearted, 

the bountiful, the children's friend, the untiring 
giver, kind old Santa Claus? She hurried to 
Mother's room, but Mother was out. She met 
Bob in war regalia, gun over his shoulder, lead- 
ing a make-believe army through the hall. He 
offered his " 'spress wagon" and his new mittens 
for Santa — and he was proud of his mittens — 
Vol. XXXVL— 21. 




CORDELIA FINDS SANTAS NOTE-BOOK. 

"S.C." on the very finest handkerchief, but it 
was too late now. 

While Cordelia sat here in a brown study, her 
father walked slowly into the room, his eyes 
fixed on the carpet. He, too, was thinking. 
Presently he pulled out of his pocket a little note- 
book, which he consulted. On the cover Cor- 



162 



SANTA CLAUS'S NOTE-BOOK" 



[Dec, 



delia saw, in gilt letters, the word "Memoranda." 
That meant "things to remember." Just what 
Santa Claus needed ! He must have a great 
many things to remember, — long lists of children 
all over the world, and presents that they wanted. 
"Oh, Father!" she cried. "Don't you think 
Santa Claus needs a 'Memorandum book'?" Then 
she explained to him that it was to be a Christ- 
mas present. Father seemed pleased with the 




"'GOOD MORNING. MEKKY CHRISTMAS!' SAID THE GENTLEMAN 

idea, and the next day he went with Cordelia to 
Penn and Pomeroy's, where they chose a red 
Russia leather memorandum book — smooth and 
shiny and sweet-smelling— to fit Santa Claus's 
big vest pocket. That night Cordelia wrapped it 
daintily in white paper and laid it in plain sight 
on the hearth. 

On Christmas morning so busy and delighted 
was she with her stocking and Bob's that 
she did not notice for some time that the book 
was still there, but it was unwrapped. On the 
first page was written, in large letters, the name 
"Santa Claus," and on the second a hasty scrawl 
which read as follows: "Don't forget — Kneed 
Family — little brown house round the corner." 



Corde-lia ran with the book to her father, who 
was helping Bob put up a flag on his new battle- 
ship "Amerigo." 

"Look !" she cried, "Santa Claus dropped his 
notebook ! And I 'm afraid he did forget the 
Kneed Family. What shall we do?" 

Father looked at the book. He did not seem 
surprised. 

"I know who they are," he said; "there are 
two or three children and 
their mother. They have 
no father— now. He used 
to work for us in the fac- 
tory. I hear that they are 
very poor indeed." 

Cordelia seized her fa- 
ther's hand. "If we only 
knew what Santa Claus 
was going to give them," 
she cried, "we could take it 
ourselves ; for now they '11 
have to wait a whole year." 
"Perhaps," said her fa- 
ther, moving the ink just in 
time out of Bob's reach, 
"perhaps Mother may think 
of something they would 
like." 

Mother took a long time 
to decide what they would 
like, but at last when every- 
thing was ready all four 
started, with a load of 
clothing, food, and toys, 
which could be spared. 

Meantime the Kneed Fam- 
ily in the little brown house 
around the corner were al- 
ready eating their Christ- 
mas dinner, though the 
clock said barely twelve. 
But as they had had scarcely any breakfast, they 
were more than ready and had seated themselves 
at the table, dressed in their cut-over, mended 
and faded best clothes, their eyes fixed on the 
glorious feast — at least they thought it glorious. 
In the center of the table was a platter, small 
even for a family of three and a baby, heaped 
with a smoking mound of— something — covered 
with white gravy. It was — oh, delicious! — salt 
codfish and potato ! And the gravy was made of 
real milk ! In the middle of the mound was stuck 
for ornament a green geranium leaf from the 
plant growing in the tin can on the window-sill — 
picked from underneath, where it would n't be 
missed- Moreover, beside the platter was a plate 



SANTA CLAUS'S NOTE-BOOK" 



163 



of baker's cookies ; for when the Kneed Little Girl 
proposed that they leave these till to-morrow, 
when they would not have so much else, the 
mother had said, "No, my dears, you shall have a 
good dinner one day in the year, and all you want." 

The dinner was their only Christmas present. 
They had not taken the trouble to hang up their 
stockings, for they felt sure that neither Santa 
Claus nor anybody else would come to fill them. 
They had n't a friend in the world, so far as they 
knew ; but they had one another, and they were 
keeping Christmas together as best they could. 

The}' had emptied the platter all too soon, and 
were just beginning to nibble the cookies slowly 
to make them last a long time, when there came 
a knock at the door. What could it be ? On 
Christmas Day ! Peeping out of the window, 
they saw a sweet-faced little girl bearing in her 
arms a big branch of holly, and beside her a gen- 
tleman with a large basket like that in which 
the Kneed little Mother carried home the washing. 
Behind them a lady, her hands full of bundles, 
was trying to keep a tiny, black-eyed boy out of 
the snowbank. 

The Kneed Family gazed at each other in won- 
der, while the mother went trembling to the door. 

"Good morning. Merry Christmas!" said the 
tall gentleman, setting down his basket. "Our 
name is Goodrich." He held out his hand. "We 
have some things here that we think Santa Claus 
intended for you. Made a mistake in his hurry, 
you know — very natural — please excuse him." 

The poor Children's eyes were as round as 
saucers ; but their mother in a quivering voice 
invited the Goodriches in — she seemed to know 
who they were. When the basket was unpacked, 
the Kneed Children laughed with delight, and 
their mother wept for thankfulness ; for there 
seemed to be everything in it that they had ever 
wanted to eat or to wear, or to play with. Then 
Cordelia's mother sat down to talk with the 
Kneed Mother about the baby ; Bob, after he had 
punched the Kneed Little Boy to see what he was 
made of, showed him how to run the train of 
cars on the toy track ; and Cordelia and her 
father made the Kneed Little Girl tell them how 
she went to school and had high marks in spell- 
ing, and how she helped mother iron on Satur- 
days, and washed the dishes — and also the baby 
— every day. And somehow they found out, 
though the Kneed Little Girl did not tell them, 
that she never had any good times, nor any pretty 
clothes, nor even enough to eat ; and yet she was 
so sweet and cheerful, and had such clear, patient 
brown eyes, that Cordelia fell in love with her 
on the spot, and made her promise to come to 
see her the very next day. 



And so she did. The Kneed Little Boy had not 
been able to go out except in dry weather for 
some time, because of big holes in his shoes; but 
in the basket were some outgrown rubbers of 
Cordelia's which fitted him ; so he came too. 
While Bob was teaching him to shoulder arms 
and quick-march, Cordelia led the Kneed Little 
Girl upstairs to her room, all snow-white and 
sky-blue like an ice-fairy's bower. The Kneed 




"CORDELIA THREW OVER HER HEAD A 
STRING OF CORAL BEADS." 

Girl touched with one finger the shining brass 
bedpost and the spotless white spread, and her 
pale cheeks grew rosy with delight when Corde- 
lia threw over her head a string of coral beads — 
"to keep." 

That night at bedtime, when Cordelia's mother 
came to tuck her into the dainty white bed, Cor- 
delia said with a sigh of relief, "Just suppose we 
had n't found that Memorandum book!" 

And the Kneed Mother was talking it all over 
with her small family in the brown house around 
the corner. Finally, she asked her little daugh- 
ter, cuddled down in her lap, "Don't you wish 
you were Cordelia?" But the Little Girl said, 
"It was a beauty room — as sweet as roses; but," 
— and here she threw her patched calico arms 
around her mother's thin neck, and gave her a 
big hug— "but / 'd rather live here zvith you, 
Mitmmie." 



jJ>>lUj»r-'''''CMlwi(»v— i^^^.;^^ ^'''^''tWWJiBfes/i 



iV 



k''l'i(W''"-"~iH 



WAS a glad Christmas eve, and all over the 
world, 
J With reindeer and sleigh dear old 
Santa had whirled. 
No one was forgotten or slighted by him ; 
Each stocking was bulging and crammed to the 
brim. 
"There!" cried the old saint as he stopped at his 

door, 
"I 've made all the little ones happy once more ' 
But the rest of the night will be lonely, I fear ; 
Why— what is this wonderful racket I hear?" 
He bounded down nimbly, so great his surprise 
But stopped just inside, scarce believing his eyes 



(gL^iYS W^TT SfiKKSL/aOlIc 



U\i 



!^> 



<£> ^**^ 



■s:^ 



^, 



W 



j- 



r-. ^'m 



&~ k3> , 



^ 



^r?' 



S> 



1'*," 



•^. 



For here were the children that he had supposed 
Were sleeping down yonder with eyes tightly 

closed ; 
Here, singing and dancing and frisking in glee 
\round a most dazzling and beautiful tree ! 
"Oh, Santa," they cried, "we have found you at 

last ! 
How tired you must be ! You have journeyed 

so fast 
To take us good gifts ; but now, Santa Claus, see ! 
We have brought you some gifts, and this 

splendid, big tree ! 
We want you to know, just for once in a way, 
How happy you make us, each new Christmas 

day. 
These gifts did not grow in your Christmas 

tree grove ; 
We brought them for you, with our very best 

love !" 



SANTA'S SURPRISE PARTY 



165 



Then I wish you had seen them lead Santa 

about 
To examine his gifts— heard his laugh and his 

shout 
When he found a fur coat with a collar so wide, 
When he read the gay note that was fastened 

inside ! 
There were bells for the reindeer, a pipe and 

red mittens. 
And one little girl had brought Santa her kit- 
tens. 
He 'd a brush for his clothes and a brush for 

his hair, 
He had pictures and books and a great easy 

chair 
Where a good saint might nap it and sit at his 

ease 
While presents grew ripe on his evergreen 

trees. 
He 'd a pair of new spectacles, shining and bright, 




SANTA'S SURPRISE PARTY 



■ • -I I- -■' M 



■;-fa' 



$^ 



To help him to fill little stockings aright. 

There were cushions so soft for the magical 
sleigh, 

A cap trimmed with fur and a dressing-gown I 
gay, 

And stockings so long and so warm and so] 
thick, 

Jack Frost can no more play his favorite trick 

Of blowing a blast upon Santa Claus' toes 

As over the steeples, at Christmas, he goes. 

'Please wear this red scarf!" whispered one lit- 
tle elf; 

T made it, dear Santa; I worked it myself!" 

He caught up the girlie and gave her a kiss. 

He hugged them and thanked them — not one 
did he miss ; 

Then, "laying his finger aside of his nose," 

He twinkled his eyes— and what do you sup- 
pose? 

Such visions of stockings, filled up to the top, 

Bedazzled those children, they scarcely could 
stop 

To cry "Merry Christmas ! Good night, Santa 
dear!" 

And to wish him a glorious "Happy New Year !" 

Then home o'er the cloud hills they scampered 
and ran ; 

found — : 







FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK 





^mmBrn'smmr^^ 



■j em^Wi^'^-', 



t ' Natureanp5cicnce 



^/^ 

.*-«, 



I'. 'T^^.^/J.-A > FOR^yoUNG FOLKS 



EDITED Bv EDWARD F. BIGELOW 



The fox seems to get his living by industry and perseverance. He 
runs smelling for miles along the most favorable routes, especially the 
edge of rivers and ponds, till he smells the track of a mouse beneath 
the snow, or the fresh track of a partridge, and then follows it till he 
comes upon his game. . . . There may be a dozen partridges resting 
in the snow within a square mile, and his work is simply to find them 
with the end of his nose. — Thoreau. 

SURPRISES 

The tracks of the fox led to the cozy retreat of 
a snow-laden cedar, a true Christmas tree of the 
woods. The snow had been shaken from the 
lower branches. In the immediate vicinity were 
the tracks of a partridge. But not a feather was 
visible. I could close my eyes and easily see the 
fox pouncing upon the low-hanging, snow-cov- 
ered branch under which a partridge had evi- 
dently taken cover. But the bird had surely been 
too quick for the fox. It was a comedy, not a 
tragedy. The fox had lost a Christmas dinner. 





WHAT THEY FOUND 



DIGGING OUT A WOODCHUCK BURROW AND FINDING A SURPRISE 



The skunk is too indolent even to dig his own hole, but appropriates that of a wood 
chuck, from which he extends his rambling in all directions. — Burroughs. 



From the tracks and the bare limb I could 
easily infer what had probably taken place, as 
our artist has shown you in the illustrated head- 
ing of this department. 

Perhaps you have been to a well-laden tree and 
not obtained what you expected. If so, from that 
point of vieW'..you can sympathize 
with the fox. But I am confident 
that the sympathy of most "Nature 
and Science" readers will go to the 
partridge with a feeling of gladness 
that she escaped. 

This surprise or mistake _ of the 
fox called to mind several incidents 
of my boyhood's days, and before I 
had learned in nature interests to 
lay the gun away in the attic as a 
souvenir of my boyish cruelty to 
birds and four-footed animals. My 
traps now exist only in memory. 

But so long as I shall live I shall 
never forget some of these droll 
experiences and surprises. 

I had been told that woodchucks 
pass the winter asleep in under- 
ground burrows, and I wanted to 
see how one looked when in that 
state. So one day in the early part 
of December we boys dug several 
holes down to the burrow. Ponto, 
the dog, was an eager helper, but 
he could n't talk. If he could, he 
would have said : "There 's more 
than a woodchuck in that burrow." 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



169 



However, he made full amends for 
his lack of language. He tried to 
tell us after he had darted into the 
fifth or sixth hole, that there was a 
skunk down there. Before long it 
was perfectly evident, and soon we 
had the evidence of sight. It was 
unforgetable, and at the time unen- 
durable. We ventured near the 
burrow a few days afterward and 
got the tools where we had dropped 
them in our flight. 

Speaking of surprises at digging, 
reminds me that a hog was once 
surprised at the results of its dig- 
ging. A zigzag rail fence separated 
a hay-field from an orchard. There 
were apples in the orchard and the 
hog wanted to get them. The cor- 
ners of the fence were supported 
on stones partly sunk in the earth 
to hold the bottom rail for a short 
distance above the ground so that 
it would not so soon decay. One 
corner was on a short length of a 
large piece of drain-pipe, which was 




THE SURPRISE IN THE BOX TRAP. 

Box traps are usually set on the ground on the sininy side 
of a wall or on the wall and baited with apple. Quail fre- 
quent both places and are fond of apples, especially when 
other food is scarce. 




TRAPS BEFORE BEING COVERED 



TRYING TO ENTANGLE A FOX IN SMALL TRAPS. 
These traps are covered with leaves and the bait heated and suspended by a cord. 
Though a skilful plan, it is frequently the trapper and not the fox that is surprised. 



sunk into the ground within a few 
inches of the top so that both open- 
ings were in the hay-field. The in- 
quisitive and persistent hog dug 
into one end and then "rooted" out 
the dirt and pushed it throvigh the 
other opening. It looked as if the 
digging would make a hole by which 
to enter the orchard ; but it did n't, 
and it was, indeed, a surprised hog 
that found' itself after much labor 
back in the same field. Repeated 
traveling back and forth through 
that drain-pipe, which at the open- 
ing plainly led out of the field, 
seemed never to make clear just 
what was the trouble. It was an 
unending surprise. 

But some animals have more wit 
than a hog. Last December, with 
a party of young folks, we found a 
man trying to fool a fox. He hung 
meat on a limb over a pile of leaves 
under which were several traps. 
He burnt the meat over a small 
bonfire, holding it by the string so 
as to remove all traces of the scent 
of his hand. He used several traps 
because he wanted to entangle the 
fox and catch it alive, without in- 
juring it. But the fox was too 



Vol. XXXVI. -22-23. 



170 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



[Dec, 



wise. We saw the man several times at inter- 
vals of a week and he said he never caught a 
fox. It was the absence of any surprise to the 
fox that made us glad. 

Sometimes the wrong animal is caught, as 
would have been the case if one of us had gone 
under the limb and stepped on the leaves among 
the rocks. 

I well remember how I baited a box trap with 
apple to catch a rabbit, and set it on the sunny 
side of a wall, and caught (^ quail. Quail evi- 
dently frequented the place and liked apples, as 
well as do rabbits. 

Perhaps the greatest surprise of all my hunt- 
ing and trapping days was on finding what we 
supposed to be a squirrel nest. It proved to be 
a 'coon curled up in the crotch of the tree. And 
when we disturbed him the "nest" came to life 
and, as one boy phrased it, "when he walked up 
the limb he looked almost as big as a panther." 



mental vision of a much bigger animal moving 
along the branch near the top of the tree. 

We, at the time, did not know what it was and 
for a mile or more we did not stop to find out or 
to compare notes ! 



A FLASH-LIGHT PHOTOGRAPH 
A GRIZZLY BEAR 



OF 



The flash-light of the grizzly was taken just 
after midnight, in September, 1902. The bear's 
tracks were seen while we were hunting elk, and 
we determined to camp near the tracks, in west- 
ern Wyoming, and try our luck with the camera. 
He was carefully baited with elk meat and bacon, 
the camera focused on the bait and screened by 
some spruce saplings. Two of us took up our 
position at sunset, lying single file on the ground 
behind the saplings, and waited. About one 
o'clock in • the morning, a large, silver-tipped 
grizzly appeared from the opposite side of this 
small opening, or "park," in the woods. He came 
stealthily toward the bait, then looked about for 
trouble, sniffed the air and seemed to scent dan- 
ger in our direction. The bear took a few steps 
toward us. The bait was twenty-five feet from 
the camera. The grizzly stopped, then started 
toward us again, grunting and sniffing the air, 
until he was within about eight feet of us. His 
outline was apparent because of the bright, starlit 
night and the half-mcon. Fortunately for us. 




THEY THOUGHT IT WAS A NE.ST - ^ 

Raccoons, like most other climbing animals, make frequent use of the nests of hawks and crows to sleep in. At other times they flatten 
themselves along the thick branch of a tree, their gray fur harmonizing admirably with the colour of the bark. — "American Animals." 



None of us, however, had ever seen a panther a favoring breeze brought to him a whiff of the 
in a tree, nor a 'coon, either. To this day, I can- meat, and it was evidently too much for a hungry 
not realize that that was a raccoon. I have a bear. He hurried back, swung round and, with 



;.] 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



171 



both eyes fixed in our direction, took up a piece to be prized than its skin. Photography of wild 
of the elk meat, and at that moment I opened animals requires greater skill than shooting, 
the shutter and fired the flash. It was a Sportsmen should discard rifles for cameras, and 




THE FLASH-LIGl 



A.\ I N I M Al 



large, blinding flash and the bear took to his thus let wild animals increase in numbers. Is 
heels, stumbling and grunting through the woods, not this photograph a better achievement than to 
There was much excitement in developing the have slain Bruin with a "flash-light" that car- 
negative a month later, because a photograph of ried a bullet. 
an animal as difficult to find as a grizzly is more F. C. Walcott, New York City. 



172 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



[Dec, 



THE WHITE-TAILED GNU 

This is a new animal in two senses of tlie word; 
it being a recent arrival at the Washington Zoo. 




J^ria^.vi. 



THE WHITE-TAILED GNU. 
An ugly animal with dangerously sharp ho 



It is one of many animals which the keeper does 
not care to go into the cage or yard with, as it 
does not lose its wild instinct, and its horns are 
terrible weapons, being very sharp and strong. 

This specimen is a male about four years 
old, and is four feet high at the shoulders. The 
body and tail are quite like those of a pony. The 
color is sooty black, but the females are lighter, 
and have horns like their mates. The tufted, yel- 
lowish-gray mane is bordered with a deep brown, 
and the tail is white, with the under part of a 
blackish color. The legs are very neat and slen- 
der, and the hoofs are like those of a deer. The 
horns are very large and massive at the base, 
where they nearly come together in front. The 
nose is very broad and flat, and the lips are sup- 
pHed with coarse, white hairs. A few bristly, 
white hairs also hang just below the eyes. The 
long, black hair on the nose, dewlap and chest 
gives the animal a very peculiar appearance, and 
looks as if the "cropping" had been overlooked 
in those places. 

The gnu makes a barking snort like a large, an- 
gry dog, and often stands almost upright, pawing 
the air as he swings about on his hind legs — just 
for amusement, I suppose. When wild, they wheel 
in a circle once or twice when alarmed, be- 
fore setting off. This may be a signal of alarm, 
also to ascertain if all the rest of the herd is 
aware of the danger. 

In his native haunts, his food is the same as 
that of the wild horse ; in captivity he is fed in 
about the same wav as the domestic horse. 



His native home is the open country of South 
Africa, where herds of from ten to fifty are 
found, often associated with quagga. The old 
males separate from the 
herd in summer and lead 
a solitary life, lying in a 
sort of lair during the day, 
where they are frequently 
shot by the natives. The 
gnu is a very wary animal, 
of great speed and endur- 
ance. Its hide is an arti- 
cle of export in Natal. 
Harry B. Bradford. 

A COZY PLACE FOR A 
HOME 

While walking through a 
banana plantation near Ma- 
tanzas, Cuba, a small dove 
fluttered out from under 
some leaves I disturbed in 
passing. 

She feigned a broken 
wing, and tried to lead me from the spot, but I 
was hard-hearted enough to ignore her, and peer 
under the leaves instead. I was repaid for my 
trouble by a sight I shall always remember— the 
coziest little home I ever saw. 

A large bunch of bananas, nearly ripe, and 
hanging so low as to nearly touch the ground, 





u 


■■■■-.;■■ **■ 


ml 







THE DOVE S NEST IN A BUNCH OF BANANAS. 

sheltered in its heart a neat little nest, with two 
pearly white eggs. G. W. Damon. 



i9o8.] 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



173 



THE WILD FAWN 



One day I, a farmer in Shirkshirc District of 
Conway, Massachusetts, was working on my 




THE WILD FAWN AND TWO LITTLE PLAYMATES. 

meadow and saw a doe and a fawn not more 
than two or three days old not far away. I went 
up to them, when the doe 
became frightened and fled 
to the woods, leaving the 
fawn in the soft mud. It 
did not seem frightened, 
so I picked it up and took 
it to my home and after- 
ward to Shelburne Falls, 
where I had it photo- 
graphed with my two little 
daughters. On returning 
home, I told the children 
that the fawn must return 
to its home also. So I took 
it back ' to the meadow, 
where it was soon joined 
by the doe. It was a beau- 
tiful little animal, about 
the size of a little lamb, 
and its back was covered 
with rows of white spots. '''"'' "orga 

The above picture shows 
the fawn with its two little playmates of a day. 

Bert N. Rogers. 



STRANGE LIVING FENCES AND HEDGES 

The civilized world is familiar with all sorts of 
contrivances of wood and metal for fencing ma- 
terial. Innumerable shrubs have been trained 
into beautiful and effective hedges, but the remote 
and treeless portions of the great Southwest can 
boast a quite unique and durable fencing mate- 
rial. There various species of the cacti are used 
for this purpose. The cattlemen of the great cat- 
tle ranges of the arid region frequently use the 
different varieties of the common tuna or 
prickly pear. 

These hedges form impenetrable barriers and 
not only protect the flocks from the attacks of 
prowling animals, but also furnish a constant 
supply of succulent forage which is prepared by 
burning off the spines of the tender young seg- 
ments. 

In southern California, in the vicinity of the 
old missions, it is no uncommon sight to see rem- 
nants of the defensive hedges over fifteen feet 
high stretching for miles over the brown hills. 
These thorny fortifications were planted by the 
early mission fathers to protect their little settle- 
ments from the attacks of savage Indians and 
dangerous beasts. 

Throughout Mexico what is commonly known 
as the "organ" cactus is used to make fences. 
Pieces the desired length are cut off and set close 
together in the ground. These pieces take root 
and grow and spread, forming an impenetrable 
thicket of unyielding thorns. 

In the isolated regions about Magdalena Bay 




' CACTUS (resembling THE PIPES OI" AN ORGAN) 
GROWING IN MEXICO AS A FENCE. 

a species of this same cactus is the only fencing 
material known.— Charlotte M. Hoak. 



174 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



[Dec, 



--~j.».:=^ 



^"BECAUSE- WE 
[want to KNOW" 




ENGLISH SPARROWS KILL A CICADA 

Stamford, Conn. 
Dear St. Nicholas: I recently saw an English sparrow- 
picking at a live cicada for a short time. The cicada would 
try to escape but only fluttered a little way. Then another 
sparrow came and began picking at it. .Soon both sparrows 
took hold of it and began to pull in opposite directions. 
Then one got it and flew a short distance with it. They 
seemed not so anxious to eat it as to kill it. After the 
sparrows left it 1 saw the dead and wingless body lying on 
the sidewalk. Why did the sparrows kill the cicada ? 

Pearl A. Bigelow. 

English sparrows eat a few insects. They seein 
to be especially fond of killing cicadas. A few 
years ago when the seventeen-year cicada was at 
Washington, the sparrows killed large numbers 
on the Smithsonian grounds. They attacked the 
insects soon after they left the larva cases and 
before they were strong enough to fly. — Dr. A. 
K. Fisher. 

"DIVINING" FOR WATER 

Rochester, N. H. 
Dear St. Nicholas: There seems to be a prevalent be- 
lief among most country folks that veins of water, even at 
great distances below the surface of the earth, can be de- 
tected by some people by the following operation, which I 




holding the forked twig in 
"divining" for water. 

From " Myths and Myth Makers." 

Courtesy of Houghton, Mifflin 

& Company. 



have seen apparently successfully performed, though with- 
out being able to do it myself. 

A forked twig is cut from a sweet-apple-tree and held, 
the fork extending downward, in an upright position, each 
hand, the palm upward, grasping a projection of the fork. 
Then the person holding the twig walks slowly over the 
place where a vein of water flows. As he passes over the 
desired spot the stick will bend in his hand as though at- 
tracted to the ground, and if he retains a firm grasp on the 
stick, the bark w'U sometimes even be twisted off in his 
hands. 

I am personally acquainted with the man whom I saw 
perform this feat and I can vouch for his sincerity. 



Can this belief be explained by any scientific theory ? 
Impatiently waiting for your answer, I am 
Your interested reader, 

Leslie W. Snow. 

The divining-rod has a long history and an im- 
mense literature which is an odd and interesting 
mingling of fact and fiction. It has been fre- 
quently referred to in prose and in poetry ; it has 
been treated as a myth ; it has been gravely dis- 
cussed by eminent scientists, and pictures have 
been printed showing it in action. Many persons 
of the present day regard it as a superstition or 
as a relic of past ages, and yet many others, as 
you state, still believe in it and use it for the dis- 
covery of underground springs or water-courses. 
Since your letter was received I have brought 
the subject to the attention of several persons for 
whose opinion in such matters I have respect. 
Most of these ridicule the divining-rod and re- 
gard it as one of the most absurd of human delu- 
sions. But several stoutly maintain its value, and 
one cited, from actual experience, an instance in 
which the rod bent downward so forcibly that the 
bark was torn from the branch. An excellent 
well of water was obtained where this bending 
indicated the spring. 

The common form has always been a forked or 
Y-shaped branch of the witch-hazel, although 
other wood, such as peach, apple, ash, pine, has 
been employed. Some professors of the art have 
varied the shape of the rod, using sometimes a 
straight twig with a small fork only at 
one end ; sometimes a straight stick 
curved by the pressure of the hands, or 
even a strip of inetal or whale-bone, has 
been used. 

Many forms are still employed in this 
country for locating minerals and depos- 
its of oil. 
Since it has been .so long and so extensively 
used, and therefore has so many advocates, to 
say that it has no value would not be reasonable. 
Yet every thoughtful person is necessarily skep- 
tical. The rod succeeds in some hands and fails 
in others, even when carried above the same 
places. It has turned strongly and yet failed 
when carried across the same spot by the same 
person when blindfolded. It would be unscien- 
tific to claim that (varying according to different 
desires in different places) metals, buried treas- 
ure, oil, water, etc., directly cause the rod to ro- 
tate, for it can be easily proved that the rod when 
placed on supports or pivots over oil, metal or 
water does not change its position. The ex- 
planation of the whole matter is that the mental 
state of the expert appears to affect the rod'.s 
movements, rather than any mysterious influence 



i9o8.] 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



175 



from the mineral, the water, or the oil. The rod 
held in the hands may influence one's "uncon- 
scious judgment" to make the decision that he 
announces through the seemingly magical action 
of the wand. 

Only from that point of view has the rod any 
value, and in this way only can be explained the 
strong arguments for and against its use. To 
those who find it helpful, it is of value ; to others, 
it is foolishness. The movements of the rod are 
at all times probably due to involuntary muscular 
movements in the arms that hold the rod. 

TINY EGGS IN A QUEER COCOON 

Walla Walla, Wash. 
Dear St. Nicholas: This afternoon I found among the 
leaves the little nest of eggs I have inclosed. We thought it 

must be the eggs of 
some queer spider. 
Can you tell us 
what kind of eggs 
they are ? 

Your loving reader, 
LouLSE Pennell 
(age 12). 




You are right in 
your guess as to 
the eggs. They 
are very small, 
and the spider 
put them in a cocoon that opens like two plates 
placed tops together. The scientist says the spider 
that made this cocoon and put the eggs in it is 
either a Clubionid or a Thomisid. 



THE EGGS IN THE COCOON. 
They are like tiny bonbons in a box. The 
"cover," showing the impression of the 
eggs from the under side, is placed at the 
right. 



HARD TO KILL 

N— 



H- 



"the witch's broom" 

Chestnut Hill, Mass. 
Dear .St. Nicholas : I am sendmg you a picture of what 
I thought to be a very curious formation on a tree. The 
bunch you c;in see on the riglit did not have the same 
foliage as that of the rest of the tree. Would it have been 
]iossible for a bird to carry the seed there and leave it? 
How could it live without eartli or water? It looked just 
as if a bush had grown out of the tree. 
Yours truly, 

Helen Whitcomb. 

This growth is caused by a fungus, probably 
Aecidium elatinum. The fungus develops in the 
branch and interferes with the normal habit of 
growth. 

A great mass of small shoots comes out at 
the affected point, each shoot being covered with 
small yellow-green needles, differing considera- 
bly from the regular needles of the pine or 
spruce, whichever it may be. The common name 
for this deformity is "witch's broom." It is not a 
common or dangerous disease, and is usually con- 
fined to the coniferous trees. — H. O. Cook, As- 
sistant Forester. 



-, Mass. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I am going to tell you about an ex- 
perience which I had when I was living in Arizona. I 
was going to Tucson from our camp with my mother, my 
brother, some friends, and a cow-boy. We were riding in 
the latter's wagon. 

When we were about twenty miles from Tucson, I saw 
something moving a little distance away from us, so I called 
to the cow-boy and asked him what it was. He said it was 
a gila monster and that it was the most poisonous animal 
in the West, it being more poisonous than the rattlesnake. 
He jumped out of the wagon and threw a lasso around his 
neck. Then he hung him on the back of the wagon with 
a rope and we went the rest of the way. But gila monsters 
have very tough skins and when we reached Tucson he 
was as alive as could be, even after riding twenty miles 
with a rope around his neck and his feet not touching the 
ground. It was the first gila monster that I had ever seen. 
Wishing you long years of usefulness and prosperity. 
Your appreciative reader, 

Duncan Scarborough. 

This is an excellent account of an interesting 
experience with this dreaded animal. Naturalists 
welcome all original observations of the "gila 
monster" because its habits are not fully known. 
It is also not known to just what extent the ani- 
mal is poisonous. 




the fungus known as "the witch's broom 
growing on an evergreen. 

The large, dense mass about half-way up at the right. 

Inasmuch as the true "witch" (the fungus 
spore) is not readily discovered without a mag- 
nifying glass, we need hardly worry much about 
her.— William Hamilton Gibson. 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



PECD^BEl\. 




HEADING. 

BY 

HILDE 

VON THIETMANN, 

AGE 1 6. 

(cash prize.) 



4 



A LEAGUE GOOD-BY 

How long ago, a little group, we gathered 
To weave our stories and to build our rliymes! 

How tenderly the vagrant muse we tethered 

Through winter eves and drowsy summer-times. 

Those days were sweet — the path of inclination 
Lay ribbon fair beneatli the lifting sun ; 

And fast we followed, filled with contemplation 
Of dreams made substance, and of prizes won. 

Those days are fled — what echo shall remind us 
Of winter fancy, and of summer rhyme, 

When we who say good-by have left behind us 
Our meager drift along the margeof time? 

Adieu, adieu, companions of the morning. 
My pathway faces to the sloping sun; 

The shadows longer grow — I heed the warning, 
And trim my fires ere nightfall has begun. 

Albert Bigelow Paine, 
Editor St. Nicholas League, 
Nov., 1899, to Dec, 1908. 

Nine years ago last month the first announcement of 
the Sr. Nicholas League was made in this magazine. 
That is a long time in a young life. Our oldest members, 
now, were just little boys and girls then, of not more 
than eight, and if they sent anything at all to the League 
it was a crude little drawing or story or poem, or perhaps 
it was a photograph, accidentally good, because the camera 
is a happy-go-lucky sort of an artist and sometimes makes 
a wonderfully good picture for even its youngest friends. 
And our older memljers? — they liave all gone — one by 
one and two by two they passed through the little quiet 
gate that marks the eighteenth milestone along the path of 
youth, and have closed it from the further side. Most of 
them are living, busy men and women now— some of them 



following the work they loved and made their own in the 
pages of the League; some of them pursuing other and 
perhaps more congenial employments. But whatever their 
tasks and wherever they may be, the editor believes there is 
not one who does not sometimes remember the old League 
days when the monthly competition with its prize distri- 
bution was all important ; when the printed list of winners 
was scanned for the single name which, if found, was writ- 
ten as if in letters of gold. It must be so, for the good-by 
letters that have come all along have told the tale of hope 
and anxiety and triumph, and they have echoed the sad- 
ness of the parting — a sadness that never failed to find 
answer in the thought of the one who, though always left 




MARION M. PAYNE, AGE 15. (GOLD BADGE.) 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



177 



behind to welcome the new group, never failed to follow 
affectionately the old familiar names as they vanished from 
the pages of contribution and from the Honor Roll. 

And now, at last, the League editor himself is to be among 
those who go. The years have laid so many duties upon 
him that he is no longer able to give to the League the 
consideration and the time that it requires and deserves. 
Certain labors press upon him to be finished, and he must 
perform them while he has the strength and will, or not at 
all, for the months fly and the years slip away, and the 
time of labor is only a little while. He began with the 
League at its beginning, and in sympathy and spirit he will 
remain with it, come what may. But the active labor will 
hereafter be performed by another hand, trained and 
capable, whose owner will be one in full sympathy with the 
ambitions and the efforts of youth, with time and talent 
and energy for the place. To League friends and mem- 
bers old and new the old League editor waves good-by. 



St., Colfax, Wash., and Eugene L. Walter (age 15), 1301 
Michigan St., Buffalo, N. Y. 

Silver badges, Helen Sewell (age 12), 59 S. Portland 
Ave., Brooklyn, N. V.; Margaret Crouch (age 11), 719 
Comstock Ave., Syracuse, N. Y., and Frances Watts 
(age 12), care American Consulate General, 39 Rue de la 
Regence, Brussels, Belgium. 

Photography. Gold badges, Marion M. Payne (age 
15), Ovid, N. v., and C. Marguerite Daloz (age 15), 467 
Columbia Rd., Dorchester, Mass. 

Silver badges, Charles E. Ames (age 13), Readville, 
Mass., and Kathleen Mattingly (age 13), Eagle Grove, La. 

Wild Creature Photography. First prize, "Niglit 
Heron and Nest," by Alfred C. Redfield (age 17), Barn- 
stable, Mass. Second prize, "Doe and Fawn," by S. R. 
Swenson (age 12), Saranac Inn, N. Y. Third prize, 
" Herring Gull Flying," by Roger Brooks (age 11), R. F. 
D. 3, Wazzata, Minn. Fourth prize, " Guess What Bird ? " 
by TomBuffum, The Gunnery, Washington, Conn. 




HOLIDAY IN LUXOR, 



MARGUERITE DALUZ, AGE 15. (GOLD BADGE.) 



PRIZE-WINNERS, COMPETITION No. 106 

Ix making the awards, contributors' ages are considered. 

Verse. Gold badges, Agnes Mackenzie Miall (age i6), 
19 Cyprus Rd., Finchley, London, Eng. ; Mary Culver 
(age 13), 36 Eagle St., Albany, N. Y., and Anne Parsons 
(age 14), 665 E. Town St., Columbus, O. 

Silver badges, Isabel Adami (age 13), 331 Peel St., 
Montreal, Can. ; Katherine Hitt (age 14), 447 S. Normal 
Parkway, Chicago, 111., and Dorothy Dawson (age 13), 
4, The Grove, Westward Ho, N. Devon, Eng. 

Prose. Gold badges, Gertrude Hearn (age 16), 276 
Westminster Rd., Flatbush, Brooklyn, N. Y. ; Ruth Mer- 
ritt Erdman (age 15J, 521 W. Lake St., Canton, O., and 
Ruth E. Fisher (age 17), 51 E. 92d St., N. Y. City. 

Silverbadges,IsraelJ.Kesser(agei4),223 Madison St., N. 
Y.City; Sybil Marie Comer (age ii),Tampico,Tam., Mex- 
ico, and John W. Hill (age 12), 272 StateSt., Portland, Me. 

Drawing. Cash prize, Hilde von Thielmann (age 16), 
Berlin, W. 10, Rauchstrasse 9, Germany. 

Gold badges, Dorothy Starr (age 14), 6059 Monroe 
Ave., Chicago, Hi.; Eula M. Baker (age 12), 318 Mill 



Puzzle-making. Gold badge, Erma Quinby (age 16), 
24 Stratford Place, Newark, N. J. 

Silver badges, Convass B. Dean (age 17), Ulysses, Pa. ; 
Lucile Striiller (age 13), 307 N. Mountain Ave., Upper 
Alontclair, N. J., and Philip Sherman (age 10), care E. 
A. Sherman, Sioux P'alls, S. Dak. 

Puzzle Answers. Gold badge, Frances C. Bennett 
(age 16), 213 Mifflin Ave., Wilkinsburg, Pa. 

Silver badges, Katharine B. Hodges (age 16), 602 Hill 
St., Wilmette, 111., and Philip Wadden Thayer (age 14J, 
35 Wilbraham Ave., Springfield, Mass. 

THE GIFTS OF THE SEA 

BY AG.XES MACKENZIE MIALI. (aGE i6"> 

{Gold Badge) 

Oh, the sea, the azure sea, 
Clear and bright of hue ; 
Calm and stormy, fresh and free. 
How it calls to you and me 
From its depths of blue. 



178 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Dec, 



Saying, " Leave the smoke and 

grime, 
Hasten to the beach. 
Come to me a little time, 
To this cleaner, brighter clime, 
I have gifts for each. 

I will rock you on my breast, 
I will ease your pain ; 
I will give you peace and rest, 
Comfort you when you 're dis- 
tressed, 
Lend you hope again. 

Only trust yourselves to nie ; 
Take these gifts of mine. 
From the crowded cities flee 
To the bosom of the sea, 
To my love divine. 

A CHRISTMAS 

ADVENTURE 



BY GERTRUDE HEARN (AGE l6) 

{Gold Badge) 

Every year our family spends the most part of Christmas 
day at my grandmother's. One Christmas we returned 
home from there about ten o'clock in the evening. We 
went into the dining-room and my sister lighted the gas. 

We had decorated the chandelier with Christmas greens 
and from it stream.ers of crepe-paper extended to the four 
corners of the room. As the gas-light flared up, the greens 
caught fire, and before we knew what had happened the 
whole chandelier was in roaring flames. In her excite- 
ment, mother jumped up on the table (she never knew just 
how she got there) and wrapped 
my father's overcoat around the 
flames. Meanwhile the four 
streamers had caught fire and 
were lying on the floor, burning, 
where they had fallen. My 
brother, sister, and I ex- 




tinguished these 

Mother called for water, 
and my sister rushed 
into the kitchen and 
returned with — the, 
drinking cup full of 




HEADING." BY EUGENE L. WALTER, AGE 15. (GOLD BADGE. 

water! My father, who never gets excited, stood quietly 
by, watching all this. She handed the cup to him, prob- 
ably expecting him to throw it on the blaze. He took 
the cup and calmly drank the water! We did not think it 
funny then, buthow we laughed about it afterward! 

In a few moments the greens were all burned, and as 
they could catch on nothing else, our " fire " was out. For- 
tunately there was no further damage than a scorched coat 
and table-cover, but we learned a lesson — never to put deco- 
rations around lights. 

THE DIFFERENT GIFTS 

BY AN.\E PARSONS (AGE I4) 

{Gold Badge) 
Little Jane Margaret sat on the floor, 
Surrounded by beautiful presents galore. 
There were books, there was candy; a doll and a sled; 

Yet this is what she 
discontentedly said : 









'a HEADING." BY DOROTHY STARR, AGE 14. (GOLD BADGE.) 



igoS.] 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



179 




' THE OLD HOMESTEAD. BY EULA M. BAKER, AGE 12. 



" The books have no pictures, the candy 's not good, 
I hate dolls, and the sled is of iron, not wood ; 
I wanted some blocks and a big rubber ball ; 
I don't think I 've had a nice Christmas at all! " 

Now, while she thus cries, and complains of lier lot, 
We '11 see what the coachman's small daughter has got. 
Whose mama is so poor that she cannot obtain 
Gifts like those which are given to rich little Jane. 

But her father has whittled a table of wood. 
And her mother has knitted a warm, woolen hood ; 
And the child as she picks up these things in her hand 
Says: "I 'm sure I 'm the happiest girl in the land." 

A CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE 

By RUTH MERRITT ERDMAN (AGE 1$) 

(Gold Badge) 

When one of my friends was about eight years old, she 
felt uncertain about the existence of Santa Claus. As 
she was a very adventurous child, she determined to find 
out about it to her satisfaction. 

On Christmas eve, after her mother had tucked her 
snugly into bed, she crept into a large closet, in the room 
where the generous saint usually deposited his presents. 
There she waited for what seemed an endless length of 
time, but, finally, sleep closed her tired eyes, and she knew 
no more until a slight noise awakened her. 

All was dark. The child distinctly heard a noise at the 
window. Her heart gave a joyful leap. Surely that was 
Santa Claus I But the window! What a strange place for 
him to enter, but then she always had wondered how he 
could come down the chimney. Evidently theirs was too 
small. 

As quickly as possible the childish fingers groped for the 
Christmas-tree candle and matches which she had gotten 
the day before. Of course she must see the jolly saint, and 
in a moment a small light tried bravely to dispel the dark- 
ness. She eagerly strained her eyes to see the window, 
but no Christmas saint appeared. 

One glance through the semi-darkness revealed a face. 
Then came hurried footsteps and all was still. The child 
knew that the owner of the face was not Santa Claus, but 
the fact that her dim light had frightened away a thief never 



occurred to her. Looking into 
the room she could see shadowy 
objects. Santa Claus had come 
and gone while the young adven- 
turess slept, and her doubts still 
remained unsatisfied. 

If she had not been so anxious 
to see the dear old saint there 
would have been little Christmas 
joy in her home, but the thief 
took the light as evidence of dis- 
covery and consequently left the 
house unmolested. 



AUNT MATTY'S GIFTS 

BY MARY CULVER (AGE I3) 

{Gold Badge) 

Of all the Christmas gifts we get 
Aunt Matty's are most 
queer. 
Such useless ones they seem, and 
yet, 
Our Aunty is a dear. 

Last Christmas-time for bookworm Lynde, 

A racket fine was sent. 
To Nelly, frivolous in mind, 

A set of Shakspere went. 

To languid sister Rosalie 

Who never goes about. 
Some calling-cards were sent, to be 

Of use when she went out. 

But Lynde now has a tennis court, 

And plays there with a vim. 
It makes him strong, and gives him sport, 

Which seemed no use to him. 

And Nelly now stays home from balls 
And o'er Othello bends. 




'HEADING." BY MARGARET CROUCH, AGE II. (SILVER BADGE.) 



180 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Dec, 



While Rosa made some formal calls 
And gained some lovely friends. 

And so they 've all done good, you see, 

But a book of manners, small, 
That Aunty sent last year to me 

Has done the most of all. 

A CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE 

BY RUTH E. FISHER (aGIC 1 7) 

{Cold Badge) 

Every year during my Christmas vacation 
I go to Eatontown, New Jersey, to spend 
Christmas day with some friends, and each 
year I bring my gifts from the city, but last 
year in my hurry to get away, 1 forgot a 
number, for those I wished to remember. 
So I told my friends I was going to the 
near-by village to get the things I needed. 

When I started oiit they advised me to 
pack up warmly, as snow was then on the 
ground, and it threatened to snow more. I 
was in the cutter, so it was easy to travel 
over the roads. 

I got to the village safely, and after making my purchases, 
I was on my way home, when it began to snow. Then it 
came down in flurries, and by the time I got two miles out 
of the village, I was what people call "snowed in." I 
could hardly go any further when all of a sudden I spied 
a little light, and knowing that it must be some kind of a 
house I made straight for it. When I got to the gate I 
could go no farther. I got out of the sleigh to walk 





'the old homestead." by FRANCES WATTS, AGE 12. (SILVER BADGE.) 



through the drift of snow in front of what proved to be a 
small cottage. So without waiting to knock I walked right 
in. 

On entering I found two light-haired little girls playing 
in a neat, but shabby room. After making myself known 
to them, I asked if I might stay there. They nodded in as- 
sent. For by this time I saw it was impossible for me to- 
get home. The horses were under a little shed by the 
gate, so I stayed indoors with an easy conscience. 

I was there about one hour when a little pale woman, 
came in whom, I knew at a moment's glance, to be the chil- 
dren's mother, and when she saw me in the room, she no- 
doubt wondered who I was ; but the little girls already 
made me known to her. After she was home a short time 
it seemed as though we were old friends. She told me all 
about her early life, what hardships she had to bear, and 
how she had to work for her little girls (the two sweetest 
children on earth I think, for now they are very dear to me). 

While we talked it was snowing furiously, and I found 

I could not get home till it abated, so I asked Mrs. E 

to lend me her old rubber boots and cape to go out and get 
the packages in the sleigh, for I knew the children would 
not have many gifts, and I decided to give them the ones I 
had bought for the dear friends at home. 

By this time it was Christmas Eve and when I gave them 
the gifts, my readers can imagine what kind of faces I got in 
return; they paid me many fold. The old saying is, "It is 
more blessed to give than to receive." I received their 
hospitality in return, but I also acquired three of the best 
friends I think I will ever have. 



NIGHT HERON AND NEST. BY ALFRED C. REDKIELD, AGE I7. 

(FIRST I'RIZE, WILD CREATURE PHOTOGKAPHY. ) 



THE GIFT OF FRIENDSHIP 

BY ISAliEL ADAMI (AGE 13) 
{Silver Badge) 

All life seemed so empty, yet filled with care 

And my heart seemed turned to stone 
And I flung myself down in dull despair 

To sob in the gloom — alone. 
And it mattered not if 't was day or night 
Withered was pleasure and faded was light — 

And the cheerless world was gray ; 
When out of the darkness there stole a hand 
And a soft voice whispered, "I understand." . 
Then the sun smiled down from a misty sky 
While a rainbow of promise gleamed on high 

And the cheerful world was gay. 



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ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



181 



''•^ "-^'."^^^jpfss 


f"l,Xy 4 




^'■^^mS 


4 ^'-*^b4 


m^W "" 









DOE AND FAWN. BY S. R. SWENSON, AGE 12. 

(SECOND PRIZE, WILD CREATURE PHOTOGRAPHY.) 

A CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE 

BY ISRAEL J. KESSER (AGE I4) 

{Si her Badge) 

Long ago when my father was a resident of Russia, he en- 
tered the army at twenty-one. He was assigned to do 
duty in a town near the city of Baku in the Caucasus 
Mountains. There my father, being a good horseman, 
was made an orderly. It was while doing this duty that 
the adventure which I will relate in his own words befell 
him. 

"About two days before Christmas, I was sent with des- 
patches to the headquarters at Baku, — two days' ride from 
us. Another orderly and a Tartar accompanied me. The 
journey was a very perilous one ; hut as the weather was 
fair, we started out in high spirits. We trotted along mer- 
rily over the mountains chatting and singing until it grew 
dark. It was then that we noticed that the snow was fall- 
ing, and the wind blew almost with the force of a gale. 
We quickly sought a cave to shelter ourselves during the 
night and, after lighting a fire, lay down to sleep wrapped 
up in our fur coats. 

" In the morning a storm was raging and to go outside 
of the cave was sure death. We therefore kept within it 
for that day and night. During the night the storm abated 
and Christmas morn dawned clear and bright. 

"We decided to resume our journey hoping to reach 
the city by night-time. But on going out we saw 
that the trail leading to the city was covered with snow 
and we could not distinguish it from the rest of the 
ground. 

"Our course was directly west and we started out 
as we thought in that direction. After traveling for 
about three hours we discovered, to our joy, footsteps. 
It was, however, quickly changed to dismay when the 
Tartar who had examined them told us that they were 
our own. Instead of riding as we thought straight, we 
had ridden in a circle. We were now really lost in the Cau- 
casian Mountains ! 

" We were dismayed! We thought of every possible 
plan to get out of this scrape, but they all proved useless. 
At last we decided to let the horses go at random in hopes 
that they would find their way back. 

"Before startingmy comrade took out his w.atch to ascer- 
tain the time. A small watch charm however attracted his 
attention. On looking at it he suddenly gave a shout and 
jumped up. I took it from his hand and saw to my joy 
that it was a tiny compass. 

"-■Vt two o'clock that night we arrived at Baku." 



A CHRISTMAS GIFT 

BY DOROTHY DAWSO.X (AGE I3) 

{Silver Badge') 
SURROU.NDED by Ciiristmas presents, in a 

handsome easy chair, 
A fair little girl was sitting, with a dull 
and listless air, 
" I am tired of dolls and pictures, and these 

splendid toys," said she. 
" They are all too grand to play with, and 
they cannot play with me. 
I am dull in this great big nursery, with 

nobody here to see ; 
And how can I love my dollies, when they 

cannot love me ? " 
— A knock at the door — "If you ]ilease. 
Miss, here 's Billy, the gardener's boy, 
" He has brought you a Christmas present, 
— a different sort of toy — " 



And Billy came in on tiptoe, bearing a 
basket, full. 
Of the dearest Persian kittens, on a bed of cotton wool. 
W^ith a cry of joyful rapture, the little girl took them out, 
And one by one she kissed them, and turned them all about. 
Then, her arms full of kittens, she thanked the gardener's 

boy ; 
For now these living playthings had filled her cup of joy. 
And when he had gone, she murmured, — her kittens on 

her knee: 
Yes, I can love my kittens, for they will soon love me.'' 




'A HOLIDAY," BY KATHLEEN MATTINGLV, AGE 13. (SILVER BADGE.) 



182 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



A CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE ON THE FLORIDA 
KEYS 

BY SYBIL MARIE COMER (AGE II) 

{Silver Badge) 

A YEAR ago, at the time we were living in Miami, Plorida, 
my father being in connection with the Flordia, East Coast 
R.R., was down on a Key, about ninety miles from Miami 
where my mother and I were living. 

At Christmas we were very much disappointed when we 
heard that my father's work would not allow liim to come 
to town. So vi'e were to go down there. When we ar- 
rived, we were invited to spend Christmas day with friends 
of ours, who lived not a great distance from Long Key, 
where my father was. But we hesitated some time, as my 
father's yacht was not there and, if we went we would 
have to go in a small launcli with no accommodations, and 
the engineer did not know the way. At last we decided 
to go, and father was to take it upon himself to find the 
way there. 

We arrived safely and enjoyed ourselves immensely, un- 
til at last my father thought as it was getting late, and as 
he did not know the way well, we should start. Our 





"a holiday." by FREDERICK R. BAILEY, AGE l6. 

friends begged us to stay all night, but father thought it 

best to go, so off we started. Last 

We went quite a way before our launch's engine ceased those 
to work ; already it was dark and the stars 
out. We had not realized it was so late. 
It was soon very dark, and the engineer 
could not see to fix the engine for the want 
of light, and all the matches he had were 
wet. We paddled along for about fifteen 
minutes and then to add to our distress, we 
found we were lost! The tide was falling 
fast, and soon we were hard aground. As 
the little ripples rolled the launch, we could 
easily feel it bump the ground. 

We stayed there all night and about four 
in the morning the tide rose and we pushed 
off and rowed through deep water toward 
a trestle. We tied our launch to a piling, 
and climbed to the top of the trestle, then 
walked seven miles home. My father 
afterward sent back for the broken down 
boat. 

We were certainly glad to be home again, 

we were so tired and sleepy. "herring gull flying." 

That was a Christmas never to be for- , "^ ''°='='* '"'°°'^' '^'^'^ "' 

(third prize, wild creatuhe 

gotten. PHOTOGRAPHY.) 




"guess WHAT BIRD?" BY TOM BUFFUM, AGE I3. 
(FOURTH PRIZE, WILD CREATURE PHOTOGRAPHY.) 

THE GIFT OF GIVING 

BY KATHERI.N'E IIITT (AGE I4) 

( Silver Badge) 
Heaven sends gifts to mortal men 

That they content may be, — 
Wisdom, Wealth, and Honesty, 

The Joy of being free. 

But of all the good gifts granted us 
That make our lives worth living, _ 

Hand in hand come the very best, — 
Love, and the Gift of Giving. 

A CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE 

BY JOH.M W. HILL (AGE 12) 

{Si her Badge) 

summer when I was at Christmas Cove, one of 
summer resorts for which Maine is so famous, 
I made the acquaintance of a queer 
character who went by the name of Uncle 
Ben Thorp. After I grew to know Uncle 
Ben I became very fond of him. The 
stories that he told were interesting and 
dramatic and full of the heroism and cour- 
age of the rough fisher folk. But the story 
which delighted me the most was the one 
of how the island chanced to get its name. 
I will relate it to you : 

One stormy, gloomy Christmas night, 
about the year 1703, a small boat was driven 
on the coast. It contained a Frenchman 
who had taken to it, with companions, be- 
cause of the wreck of the schooner in which 
they were sailing to found a colony on the 
shores of Maine. All the others had been 
swept off during the storm. He had man- 
aged, however, by prodigious exertions, to 
keep his hold upon the boat and after a 
while the storm had abated. Far off in the 
distance was a vi'avy line of blue. This he 
knew to be land and seizing a paddle he 



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ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



183 




HEADING." BY OTTO C. PEICHEKT, AGE l6. (HONOR MEMBER.) 



used it to so much advantage as to reach the shore in a 
httle over an hour. Upon landing he fell upon the ground 
and thanked God for saving his life. A little later, -when 
he had drank some of the cold spring water close at hand, 
he made a rude cross and erected it on the beach. On 
this he carved with his jackknife, Christmas, 1 703. Thus 
Christmas Cove received its name. 

Where the man came from and who he was no one 
knows. Some time afterward a fisherman from the neigh- 
boring settlement of Pemaquid chanced to note a signal of 
distress, which was fastened to the top of a tall pine, and 
came to take him off. His arrival at Pemaquid attracted 
much interest, France being then at war with the English 
Colonies. But the massacre at Deerfield soon drove the 
memory of his romantic story out of their minds and it was 
not until after his death that people beganreptating it and 
speculating on his origin, not a few maintaining that he was 
a French officer of noble birth. However this may be, the 
man who first landed on Christmas Cove and gave the 
place the name it now bears, died unnoticed and forgotten. 

GIFTS 

BY ESTELLE KING (aGE :6) 
Once, long ago, on a brand new day. 

Eve gave Adam an apple to eat. 
And long before he had finished, they say. 

The dust of Paradise left his feet. 

How out of this apple much has come. 
Evil, and good, friendship, and strife, 

And this one little gift on a long ago day 
Has turned the course of human life. 

So gifts, you see, may mean a lot 

And are quite deserving of care and pain. 

For who can tell but the thing you give 
May let us all into Eden again. 

A CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE 

BY MARIAN E. GRAY (aGE i6) 

My father had suddenly been called to Honolulu on the 
iSth of December, and my mother and I decided to go 



with him. We arrived there a few days before Christmas. 
Some of the Americans who had come over on the steamer 
with us went to the same hotel, and so we did not feel 
hopelessly strange. Soon after arriving, invitations were 
received for a party to be given at the hotel on Christmas 
Eve. Strange sights met our eyes at this festival. Mem- 
bers of native royalty, together with the rich Chinese, a few 
Japanese, and some Americans, danced together, having the 
best kind of a time. The lawn was hung with Japanese 
lanterns, and you might have seen couples strolling around 
under the trees between dances. As all the ladies had on 
thin and low-necked gowns, this seemed to us very queer 




"a holiday." by CHARLES E. AMES, AGE I3. (SILVER BADGE.) 

because we usually spent our Christmas sleigh-riding or 
skating, while in Honolulu Christmas is nearly as warm as 
our summer. 

The next day being Christmas, the natives had a feast. 
The Americans as a great privilege were invited, and be- 
cause we were there to see the sights we went. First they 



184 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Dec, 



gave us leis, which are wreaths made of flowers and are 
usually thrown around and around the neck. The feast 
was in a long grass house, and each one sat on the floor 
with his bowl of poi before him. The natives eat this by 
using their fingers much as the Chinese use chopsticks. 
After eating we heard a native band which played weird 
but beautiful music. Shortly after, we set sail for home 
amid many expressions of alolia, meaning, " Fare thee 
well." We had spent a strange but interesting Christ- 
mas. 

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE 

BY ANNIE LAURIE HII.I.YER 
I^Honor Mciiihef) 
Far in the cold and frosty North, 

A little fir did sway. 
Amid the grandeur of the snows, 
It saddened, day by day. 

The "Northern Lights," they made it bow. 
The icebergs made it sigh. 
" I am so small," it thought, until 
The Christmas Saint passed by. 

" Ah, little tree," the Christmas Saint 

Then cried, his face aglow, 
" A picture will 1 make of you — 

A gift of fir and snow." 




'HEADING. 



SCOTT, AGE 15. 



The shiv'ring tree now glowed in green, ' 

Its boughs swung, high and proud, 
'■■ I '11 deck you," smiled the Christmas Saint, 
" With stars from yonder cloud! 

" I '11 twine your boughs with shining snow. 
Instead of tinsel bright, 
I '11 drape you o'er with threads of ice 
In place of candle light! " 

Oh, 't was a happy little fir. 

And blest by it are we — 
For it was honored always as 

The first, dear Christmas Tree! 

AN ANNUAL CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE 

BY NORINE MEANS (AGE l6) 
My favorite Christmas adventure occurs yearly and yet it 
is always different. 

My papa owns a department store and every Christmas 
mama, my sister, and myself go to the store to help papa 
and his clerks. 

We are up early, and all day we are continually flying, 
from one part of the store to another, in our vain attempts 
to please our customers. 

First, there is the woman who loolcs at all the china, 




'THE OLD HOMESTEAD. BY VIRGINIA GRANT, AGE 

from a dollar up — remarks that it is high and easily broken, 
decides she won't take any, visits the other departments in 
the same manner. When she leaves the store a couple of 
hours later her only purchase is a five-cent handkerchief. 

Ne.\t, comes the fond grandparent whose granddaughter 
has " everything in the universe." "No, this won't do," 
" No, that won't do," and finally a bundle of calico, which 
she purchased at another store, falls from her arms and 
drapes the floor in a most amazing manner. The bundle 
wrapped and returned to her, she disappears, without even 
saying "thank you." 

At this moment, a young man hands you a quarter saying 
he wants a handkerchief for his Sunday-school teacher, and 
to the amusement of all but him he turns to find her stand- 
ing near him. 

So the day passes on, till night comes, when we are glad 
to creep sleepily in our beds, happy at having taken part in 
the Christmas of many. 

THE GIRL'S BEST GIFT 

BY ALISON WINSLOW (AGE 15) 
{Honor Member') 
I KNOW a girl who gives away 

From morning until night. 
And with her comes an atmosphere 

That fills one with delight. 
She gives away, and gives away. 

But does not pay a cent. 
And ev'ry one is just as pleased 

As though a lot were spent. 

But, if she spends no money 

And gives from night till day. 
Whence come the wondrous gifts of hers. 

Now tell me, can you say? 
Oh, can't you see, oh, don't you know ? 

Slie 's happy all the time 
And life with her and all her friends 

Is one lone: linpi^y rhyme. 




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ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



185 




But knelt without the door, alone, 
To see the new God's face. 



"the old homestead." by LYNN ROLLINS, AGE 17. 

She gives away her happy laugh, 

Her smile, her song, her love. 
She gives us all the blessed thought 

That she is from above. 
We love her when she 's near us 

And when she does n't stay ; 
We love, of all the boys and girls, 

This girl who gives away. 

A CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE 

BY MARION J. LEONARD (AGE I3) 

One of the loveliest Christmases I ever had and the one 
that came nearest to being an adventure was one that I 
spent at the age of nine in a little Wyoming fort on the 
Shoshone Indian reservation. It was a very little fort one 
hundred and fifty miles from the nearest railroad, and six- 
teen miles from the nearest town, or rather village ; but the 
people were better neighbors for that. 

A few days before Christmas my father and our Fili- 
pino servant, Pablo, went up into the Wind River Moun- 
tains and cut down a handsome pine-tree, and set it in our 
front room. 

We had lost our Christmas-tree ornaments in moving, 
but we had candles and pop-corn. Then we ransacked our 
books and toys for all that we felt we could give, and 
bought plenty of candy and oranges and apples. Wehung 
the presents also on the tree; and when it was finished it 
looked surprisingly well. 

We invited all the children in the fort in to see the tree ; 
those that belonged to my mother's little Sunday-school 
class included, colored and white. Each child received a 
present, a book, an orange, and an apple. Some of them 
had never seen a Christmas-tree before, and probably would 
never see another. 

We all had a lovely time, and I don't believe we shall 
ever enjoy a Christmas more than we did that one, away 
off in the lonely mountains of the Indian reservation. 

THE GIFT OF PAN 

BY ELIZABETH TOOK (AGE 1 7) 

{Honor Member) 

As echoes from the songs 

Of angels died away 
Pan swiftly sought the chamber where 

The sleeping Christ-child lay. 

He dared not stand within 
The silent, holy place, 
Vol. XXXVI. -24. 



When rays of glory from 

The manger filled the night. 
He, wondering, sought the forest's shade 

Half-blinded by the light. 

Pan left beside the door 

A lily freshly blown ; 
The purest dews of midnight 

On its fluted petals shone. 

And when the Christ-child woke 

And saw the flower bright 
The little town of Bethlehem 

Was filled with morning light. 



THE GIFT OF FELICITAS 

BY CECELIA G. GERSON (AGE 1 5) 

In the far off land where the fairies dwell, 
And the sun shines on the bay, 

A dear little baby princess 
In her snow white cradle lay. 

Her big blue eyes were opened wide 
She cooed like birds in spring, 

For her fairy friends had come that day 
To attend her christening. 

Then Felicitas, the fairy 

Of happiness and cheer. 
Stepped forward and impressed a kiss 

On her forehead pure and clear. 

She spread her wings and flew away 
On a ray of bright sunshine, 




THL U D 0^ ESTEAD. BY \ V AN BO DO V, ^Gh. I4 

Singing, "The kiss upon your brow 
Will make your life divine." 

Most truly spoken were those words, 
For through the maiden's life 

With tender words of love and cheer 
She settled war and strife. 

And each of you, my little friends. 

Possess the gift of love 
Which Felicitas, the fairy. 
Hath wafted from above. 



186 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Dec, 







"heading." by PERCY BLUMLEIN, AGE l6. 
(honor MEMBER.) 

THE ROLL OF HONOR 

No. I. A list of those whose work would have 
been used had space permitted. 

No. 2, A list of those whose work entitles 
them to encouragement. 



VERSE, I 

Marguerite Weed 
Jean t^ray Allen 
Nannie Clark Barr 
Miriam Noll 
Helen Fitzjames 

Searight 
MiMred M. Whitney 
B. H. Fairbanks 
Dorothy Evans 
Eleanor J. Tevis 
Jeannette Munro 
Maud Holly Mallett 
Agnes Gray 
RubyE. Wilkins 
Adelaide Nichols 
Lois Estabrook 

Sandison 
Alma J. Herzfeld 
Lucy E. Fancher 
Elinor Wilson Roberson 
Louise F. Hodges 
Mildred Southwick 
Constance Wilcox 
Mathilde Harriet Loeb 
Dorothy Foster 
Carol Thompson 
Margaret F. Weil 
Ellis Allen 
Ruth Livingston 
Eleanor Johnson 
Warren L. Marks 
Marion Dinsmore 

VERSE, 2 

Helen Marie Mooney 
Clara F. Chassell 
Aileen Aveling 
Dorothy Kerr Floyd 
Olive Mary Pilkington 
Marguerite C Hearsey 
Gisela von Unterrichter 
Charlotte Agnes 

Bennet' 
Margaret T. Babcock 
Bertha North Wilcox 
Lennox Clark Brennan 
Krances Elizabeth 

Simpson 
Stella Anderson 
Gladys Vezey 
Mildred Best 
George Godoy 
Emma D. Miller 
Jessie R. Morris 



Dorothy Mac Pherson 
Ruth H. Reboul 
Wyllys Ki^g 
Gladys S. Bean 
Isabel Randolph 
Ellen L. Papazian 
Dorothy Emerson 
Lillie G. Menary 
IdaC. KHne_ 
Eleanor M. Sickels 
Sybil Davis 
Jessie Bogen 
Mabel E. Edwards 
Elizabeth B. Prudden 
Eleanor Hussey 
Marion E. Thomson 
Gertrude Kinkele 
Gladys Stephenson 
Barbara K. Webber 
Primrose Lawrence 
Emmeline Bradshaw 
Elizabeth Harrington 
May Ruchti 
Lois Donovan 
Sarah Cecilia 

McCarthy 
Bessie B. Stryon 
Alison Strathy 
Marie Armstrong 
Mary de Lorme 

van Rossem 
Bibi Elizabeth Lacy 
Helen Thomas 
Clara Eliese Simon 
Pauline Nichthauser 
Helen Agnes Slater 
Isabel D. Weaver 
Doris F. Halman 
Bertha Pitcairn 
Louise L. Cardozo 
Grace W. Wingate 
Alice I. Gilman 
Anna B. Stearns 
Gwendolyn V. Steel 
Helen A. Ross 
Marian Nevin Funk 
Miriam Abrams 
Ruth Z. Mann 
Grace Harvey 
Mary Augusta Johnson 
Ruth W. Seymour 
Elizabeth S. Allen 
Olivia Johnson 
Kathryn Manahan 
Alice Phelps Rider 
Louise M- Rose 
Duncan Mellor 



Julia len Eyck 
Howard W Combs 
Lmzee \V King 
W Gerald Barnes 
Minna Lewinson 
Barbara F. Allen 

PROSE, I 

Thelma G. Williams 
Virginia H. Duncan 
Marie Hall Wilson 
Wesley Ferguson 
Katharine F. Noll 
Alice Mac Dougal 
Annabel Remnitz 
Elizabeth K. Stauffer 
Robert Alston WWiard 
Kathryn Southgate 
Anna K. Seip 
Tillie Hoffman 
Deborah Sugarman 
Carolyn A. Perry 
Lucile Laura Chase 
James McHenry 
Fred D. Harrington 
Ellen Lemly 
Dorothy Elizabeth 

Wallace 
Mildred Menhinick 
Emily Taft 
Gladys Hall 
Marguerite Knox 
Marion D. Freeman 
Edith Dana Weigle 
Jeannette Covert 
Hazel Edgerly 
Juniata Fairfield 
Fannie Butterfield 
Vera Good 
Gertrude Tebo 
Martha L. Cooke 
Ruth Butler 
Elizabeth Kendall 
Lila R. Feeley 
Carlton W. Cox 
Anita Marjory Taylor 
Catharine Patton 
Marjorie Winrod 
Lavinia James 
Margaret Benney 

PROSE, 2 

Anna Sandford 
Elizabeth Curtiss 
Alex L. Berliner 
Mary Taft 
George Lindberg 
Hazel R. Ab5ott 
Hester M. Dickey 
Dorothy Read 
Kathrine Park 
Marjorie Paret 
Louise Reynolds 
Bessie R. Gregory 
Elizabeth F. Abrams 
Marie Farmer 
Jennaveve John 
Mary Elizabeth Van 

Fossen 
Kenneth Allen 

Brownell 
Edna Anderson 
Elizabeth Page James 
Florence M. Ward 
Minnie R. Stuartt 
Ollie Ford 
Ruth AUerton 
Florence Mickey 
Margery C. Abbott 
Henry F. Resch 



Ruth E Abel 
Mildred White 
Celestia Fromyer 
Lydia M Scott 
Jean McCaleb 
Amo Reinarz 
Alice Brabant 
Manon de Hunersdorff 
Calvert Cabell 
Corinne Weston 
Elizabeth M. Burkhardt 
Elsa Montgomery 
Maxine Elliot 
Isabelle Berry Hill 
Julia Williamson Hall 
Elizabeth Shepard 
Beth Clare 
Anna Halpert 
Henry Kaestner 
Ruth Patterson 
Erma Quinby 
H. Siegal 
Ellen B. Coleman 

DRAWINGS, I 

Rachel Gilmore Head 
Otto Tabor 
Decie Merwin 
Ernest Lieftuchter 
Carroll Miller 
Helen A. Seymour 
Kathleen Buchanan 
Louise Dantzebecher 
Jack B. Hopkins 
Cornelia Elliott Devine 
Dorothy Gray Brooks 
Ruth Cutler 
Marjorie E. Chase 
Hugh Albert Cameron 
Helen Underwood 
Dorothy Ochtman 
Margaret Putnam 

Merrill 
Lydia Carolyn Gibson 
Hugo Greenbaum 
Alma Champlin 
Adolph G. Schneider 
Margaret Farnsworth 
Ruth Colburn 
Helen J. McFarland 
Mary Sherwood 
Ethel Shearer 

DRAWINGS, 2 

Florrie Thomson 
Mary McKittrlck 
Paul Todd 
Waldron Faulkner 
John Murry Wickard 
Flora McDonald 

Cockrell 
Caroline Bagley 
Helen Edward Walker 
Sarah M. Bradley 
Reginald Marsh 
Augusta L. Burke 
Eleanor Park Kelly 
Harold H. Hertel 
Margaretta Comstock 

Johnson 
Alison M. Kingsbury 
Dorothy Gardner 
Margaret Kemp 
Lloyd Goodrich 
Marjorie K. Gibbons 
Helen D. Baker 
Helen Gillespie 
Virginia P. Bradfield 
Doris Lisle 
Agnes H. James 



Edward L. A. Woods 
Dorothy Loomis 
Gladys Felker 
Hazel Sharrard 
Beatrice H. Cook 
Adele Belden 
Lucy Mae Hanscom 
Margaret J. Marshall 
Eleanor Bournonville 

Watt 
Helen Bradley 
Joyce Armstrong 
Felicity Askew 
Edith M. Tuttle 
Helen Louise Walker 
Janet Dexter 
Julia Harvey 
Samuel Harrington 
Eleanor Patterson 

Spencer 
Esther Curtis 
Marshall Williamson 
Frances P. Irwin 
Margaret A. Smith 
Muriel G. Read 
Howard Henderson 
Dorothy Hamilton 
Ernest C. Leigh 
Dorothy Bastin 
Jessica Wagar 
Roberta Barton 
Isabel S. Allen 
Bertram E. Kosf 
Olive M. Smith 
Frank L. Hayes, Jr. 
Elizabeth K. 

Hazlehurst 
Dorothy Helen 

Gaeger 
M. Udell Sill 
Guy Arthur Olson 
Mabel Alvord 
Jeanette Reid 
Dorothy Louise Dade 
Helen Houghton 

Ames 
Doris Howland 
Maria Bullitt 
Maurice C. Johnson 
Aline M. Crook 
Verna Keays 
Elizabeth Chippendale 
Helen S. McLanahan 
Edwin Schwarzwaelder 
Cora Johnson 
Margaret Lantz 

Daniel 
Ruth Chapman 
Mary Woods 
Stasito Azoy 
Elizabeth Eckel 
Helen Fernald 
Frederick D. Griggs 
Sylvia Allen 
Joan Cowes 
Nannie Hull 
Emil Belansky 
Dorothy G. Stewart 
Helen Schweikhardt 
Cuthbert W. Haasis 
J. Loomis Brawley 
Margaret Roalfe 
Edward.CarroU 

Callan 
Caroline Hosford 
HerschelM. Colbert 
Irene Fuller 
Clinton Newbold 
Dorothy Wellington 
Dorothy Woods 
Elizabeth Lewis 
Constance E. Hazel 
Kathryn Maddock 
Edith SImonds 
Louise Winton 
Margaret A. White 
Katharine Mary 

Keeler 
Hans Witzel 
Clarence E. Matthews 
Mildred L. Coale 
Evelyn Buchanan 
Sybil Emerson 
Anne Geyer 
Elizabeth Keeler 
Ernest S. Day 



PHOTOGRAPHS, i 

Constance Ayer 
Helen B. Nichols 
Lucile W. Rogers 
Willard Burke 
John B. Davis 
Charles Franklin 

Brooks 
James M. Horlngton 
C. M. Clay, Jr. 
Howard P. Clements, 

Marie Agaesig 
Mildred Taylor 
Ellen K. Hone 
Ruth Thayer 
Clyde Stringer 
Marvin Davis 

PHOTOGRAPHS, 2 

James R. Warren 
Irvine Morrat 
Margaret E. Nash ' 
Freda Schratt 
Charies H. Miller 
Oakes I. Ames 
Frederick A. Brooks 
Alexander 

Wortherspoon 
Dorothea Jones 
Elizabeth Zulauf 
Wm. Marrat 
Richard S. Ely 
Victor Mackenzie 
Kingsley Kunhardt 
Jerome Weiss 
Grace Bristed 
Margaret S. Mears 
Mildred A. Peck 
Mary E. Maccracken 
Edith H. Baily 
Rath Lapham 
Margaret MIddleton 
Gertrude Burger 
Charlotte W. 

Williams 
Hamilton B. Bush 
Edna Lewis 
JulIetteM. Omohundro 
Starrett Dinwiddle 
John J. Regenold 
Lucy Rose Morguthan 
Mary Green Mack 
Lavinia K. Sherman 
Annie C. Clement 
Eleanor G. Boyd 
Astrid Platen 
Lucille Narvis 
Pauline M. Dakin 
Lorraine Ramsom 
Elsie Wormser 
Pauline Ehrich 
Margaret Jackson 
Leven C. Allen 
Clem Dickey 
Blanche Deuel 
Charles D. Hoag 
Edna Lois Taggart 
Margaret Cornforth 
Agnes Walter 
Kate M. Babcock 
Susan J. Appleton 
Jessie Atwood 
Ernestine Peabody 
Eileen Buckley 
Gustav Zeese 
Y. G. Leekun 
Eunice L. Hone 
Dorothy Bedell 
Charles B. Hone 
Constance Pateman 
Russell Patterson 

Ellison 
Julia Stell French 
Victor Hoag 

PUZZLES, I 

Walter Strickland 
Grace E. Kennedy 
Elizabeth Beale Berry 
Simon Cohen 
Frances A. Hardy 
E. Adelaide Hahn 



i 



I 



I908.] 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



187 



Jennie Lowenhaupt 
Ida E. C. Finlay 
Harriet E. Gates 
Ellen E. Williams 
Caroline C. 
Johnson 
Dorothy Gay 
Elisabeth Brockett 
MaidaGullock 
Juniata Fairfield 



Florence West 
Alexander Morrison 
Eleanor S. Wilson 
Allan Cole 
Hope H. Stone 
Rundall Lewis 
Dorothy Haug 
Anna Potter 
George Louis 
Sill 



Harrison Lewis 
Minna Lewinson 
Elwyn C. Thomas 
Louise Stockbridge 

PUZZLES, 2 

Mary Gale Clark 
Mane P. Long 
Katharine B. Harris 
Tennessee O. May 




AGE 1 6. 

LEAGUE LETTERS 

Baltimore, M. D. 
Dear St. Nicholas: 1 want to thank 
you for the lovely silver badge I received; 
it is just dear ! I have often imagined to 
myself what a badge would be like, but I 
never imagined it could be so cute nor did 
I imagine I would receive one. I have 
been on the honor roll twice and have al- 
ways wanted badly, as every other child 
must, to have my work published, but now that I have won a silver 
badge I am not satisfied, for I think to myself if I try hard I may be 
able to win a gold one and I most certainly am going to try, and oh, I 
certainly hope I don't get on the roll of the reckless. 

I have taken you for nearly four years now, and I get you every 
year for a birthday present. I have taken you for such a while, though 
not very long, that I feel you belong to me like a member of the family 
and I love you and wait for you more and more every year. 

I especially liked the stories by Ralph Henry Barbour, as I think I 
like boys' books best, although I liked "Fritzi" and "The Gentle 
Interference of Bab " ever so much. There is one story which I cer- 
tainly am sorry stopped and that was *' Pinkey Perkins, Just a Boy." 
I thought those were fine stories, so like a boy. 

I am afraid my letter is growing too long, so I must close. From 
your devoted and interested reader, 

Dorothy B. Sayre (age 13). 

Baraboo, Wis. 
Dear St. Nicholas; You can never realize my surprise and joy when 
I learned that I had won the gold badge. My pride in wearing it will 
te very great, I am sure, but such pride is pardonable, I think. 

I could scarcely believe my friends when they told me I had won the 
badge, because the verses were such simple ones that I hardly hope'd 
for Roll of Honor No. i. You can never know the joy it gives me to 
feel that I am now an Honor Member of the St. Nicholas League, 
and I cannot tell you that in a letter — so I will simply thank you from 
the depths of my heart, and not inflict a long letter upon you, for I 
know you are receiving letters of this sort all the time, and that my 
letter means no more than all the rest. 

Thanking you again and again, dear St. Nicholas, I am 

Yours most sincerely, 
Dorothy Barnes Loye. 

Matanzas, Cuba. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I live in Cuba, where we never see snow. There 
are beautiful flowers blooming all through the winter. 

If we visit the outskirts of the city we will see many poor people 
with their children naked in mid-winter. 

There is a high hill which has a Catholic church on the top called 
Monserrate. From the top you can see the Yumuri valley which is 
just beautiful with all its "royal 
palms." 

There are many dark caves on the 
hillside above the Yumuri River, but 
none are as beautiful as the Bellamar 
■cave, which is known all over the 
world. 

I am your interested reader, 
GussiE Nelson. 



CHAPTER LIST 

No. 1069. President, Joseph Kap- 
lan; Vice-President, Joseph Deitch ; 
ten members. 

No. 1070. "Pandora Chapter." 
President, James B. Ferris; Secre- 
tary, Jacob Jalewsky; Treasurer, 
Otto Plotz ; ten members. 



No. 1071. President, Donald Davis; Secretary and Treasurer, 
Ivalyne McDaniel ; ten members. 

No. 1072. President, Marjorie Trotter; Secretary, Pauline Sperry ; 
Treasurer, Margaret Coup; three members. 

No. 1073. " George Washington Club." President, Betty Stryker ; 
Secretary, Jeanette Ross; Treasurer, Esther Watrous; seven mem- 
bers. 

No. 1074. " St. Nicholas Lovers." President, Sidney B. Dexter: 
Vice-President, Harold Alexander ; Treasurer, Samuel Landreth ; 
nine members. 

PRIZE COMPETITION No. 110 

The St. Nicholas League awards gold and silver badges 
each month for the best origijial Tpoemi, stories, drawings, 
photographs, puzzles, and puzzle answers. Also cash 
prizes of five dollars each to gold-badge winners who shall 
again win first place. " Wild Animal and Bird Photo- 
graph " prize-winners winning another prize will not re- 
ceive a second gold badge. 

Competition No. 110 will close Dec. 10 (for foreign 
members Dec. 15). Prize announcements to be made and 
selected contributions to be published in St. Nicholas for 
April. 

Verse. To contain not more than twenty-four lines. 
Title to contain the word " Star." 

Prose. Story or article of not more than four hundred 
words. " A Story of the Stars." 

Photograph. Any size, interior or exterior, mounted or 
unmounted; no blue prints or negatives. Subject, "My 
Favorite Nook." 

Drawing. India ink, very black writing-ink, or wash. 
Two subjects, "Portrait of My Friend," and an April 
(1909) Heading or Tail-piece. Drawings to reproduce 
well should be larger than they are intended to appear, but 
League drawings should not be made on paper or card 
larger than nine by thirteen inches. 

Puzzle. Any sort, but must be accompanied by the an- 
swer in full, and must be indorsed. 

Puzzle Answers. Best, neatest, and most complete set 
of answers to puzzles in this issue of St. Nicholas. 
Must be indorsed and must be addressed as shown on the 
first page of the "Riddle-box." 

Wild Animal or Bird Photograph. To encourage the 
pursuing of game with a camera instead of a gun. For 
the best photograph of a wild animal or bird taken iti its 
natural honie: First Prize, five dollars and League gold 
badge. Second Prize, three dollars and League gold badge. 
Third Prize, League gold badge. Foiirili Prize, League 
silver badge. 

RULES 

Any reader of St. Nicholas, whether a subscriber or not, 
is entitled to League membership, and a League badge and 
leaflet, which will be sent free. No League member over 
eighteen years old may enter the competitions. 

Every contribution, of whatever kind, vittst bear the 
name, age, and address of the sender, and be indorsed as 
"original" by parent, teacher, or guardian, who must be 
convinced beyond doubt that the contribution is not copied, 
but wholly the work and idea of the sender. If prose, the 
number of words should also 
be added. These things must 
not be on a separate sheet, but 
on the contributiott itself— \i a 
manuscript, on the upper mar- 
gin ; if a picture, on the mar- 
gin or back. Write or draw 
on one side of the paper only. 
A contributor may send but 
one contribution a month — not 
' one of each kind, but one 
only. 
Address : 
The St. Nicholas League, 
(silver badge.) Union Square, New York. 




THE LETTER-BOX 



EDITORIAL NOTES 
In five of the six clever illustrations for Mrs. Ogden's 
verses "Larry O'Keefe " on pages 13410 139, Mr. Birch 
has introduced a group of Irish elves — or the " Little 
People " as the superstitious Irish peasants are said to 
call them. The poem has nothing to say of these mis- 
chievous little fellows, but in scattering them through the 
illustrations Mr. Birch has added to the humor of the 
drawings. 

Although there seems, at first sight, to be only one page 
for " Very Little Folk" in this number, yet they will all 
enjoy the story in rhyme entitled " Santa Claus's Surprise 
Party," which is really intended for them. So we hope that 
fathers and mothers and big brothers and sisters will read 
the verses to the little tots and show them Mr. Varian's 
Christmas-y pictures. 



P , Maine. 

Dear St. Nicholas: I was very glad to hear that a 
sequel to " Harry's Island " is beginning in your Novem- 
ber number. I hope when that is ended there will be an- 
other. 

My home is in the same beautiful city where Longfellow 
was born and which he loved so well. His home is opened 
summers and I have been all through it. In a great chest 
of drawers, in one room, were some towels, sheets, etc., 
worked beautifully by his sisters. The initials were done 
in human hair. 

Perhaps some of the St. Nicholas readers have read 
"Boys of '35." It is a story of Portland, or Landsport it 
is called in the book, in 1835, and tells not only some inter- 
esting facts about the city, but about some of the islands in 
the bay. 

There are 365 of them. Some are private and on those 
there is generally only a house or two, but most of them 
are covered with hotels and cottages. 

Yours truly, 
Mary A. Woodman (age 13). 



B , West Virginia. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I have been a subscriber for two 
years. Papa gives me St. Nicholas for a Christmas 
present. I hope he will give it to me this year ; he could 
not please me better. I spend many pleasant hours read- 
ing St. Nicholas. I am a little girl eleven years old and 
have assisted my mama in her duties as a telegraph opera- 
tor for the past two years, having learned the Morse 
alphabet when I was eight years old. The duties at this 
office are very light. We live in a lonely place and have 
no neighbors ; consequently we have a great deal of time 
to devote to reading and studying. 

St. Nicholas is one of my best friends. 

Your devoted reader, 

Josephine Denning. 



, New York City. 

Dear St. Nicholas : My cousin and I have taken you 

for a year and enjoy reading you very much. We always 
, look forward to the day when we expect St. Nicholas to 

arrive. 

I was born in the capital of the Republic of Guatemala 

in Central America. Guatemala is a tropical city but as it 



is situated in the mountains it has a lovely climate. It is 
like sprmg all the year around. 

In April, 1902, after the terrible earthquake, we left that 
country and though I was only six years old I still remem- 
ber the interesting trip we had. 

In order to reach the port, Puerto Barrios, on the At- 
lantic coast, we had to travel on muleback over a part of 
the Andes mountains, as the railroad was at that time not 
yet completed. The first eight hours the paths were wide 
enough to allow us to travel in a carriage, then as the paths 
became narrower and narrower we went on muleback for 
three days. At night we stopped at an Indian hut. 

In Puerto Barrios we took a steamer to New Orleans, and 
we enjoyed our eight-day journey over the Gulf of Mexico 
very much. After seeing New Orleans we went to Wash- 
ington where we visited the White House, Congressional 
Library, and other buildings. From thence we came to 
New York, our present home. 

I wonder if St. Nicholas has any readers in Guate- 
mala City! 

Your admiring reader, 

Mercedes Moritz (age 12). 



L , Mass. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I have been buying you for about 
five years and have not written to you before. I live in 
Lenox, Massachusetts, all summer but in the winter I live 
in New York. 

I love the story of " Harry's Island," and also, " Hints 
and Helps for Mother." I am 12^ and will be 13 in No- 
vember. I have an old canary and a very old pony named 
Sir Arthur. When he was young he won ten blues and I do 
not know how many reds. I had a darling little fox-ter- 
rier, but he was 12 years old, and died about a week ago. 
I feel badly about it, but when 1 read you, you cheer me up 
with your many nice stories. Mother says that she will 
give you to me for my birthday, but now I buy you every 
month. 

I remain your faithful and loving reader, 

Anna R. Alexandre (age 12 ^). 

We thank our " faithful and loving reader " for her pleas- 
ant letter, and congratulate her upon having left the "12^" 
mark by this time and reached her next birthday. 



N A , Mass. 

Dear St. Nicholas: You were given to me on my birth- 
day this year, and I love you very much. 

I was very sorry "Harry's Island" had to stop last 
month, but I hope some one will write another story 
quite as good, to take its place. I 'm sure I would, were 
I old enough or knew how. 

I have a sweet little dog called Tinkerbell, after the 
fairies in "Peter Pan," which I saw in London. 
I hope to take you a long time. 

Your interested little reader, 

Barbara J. L. Watson (age 12). 

Barbara's hope for another story "as good as 'Harry's 
Island ' " will be fulfilled, for Mr. Barbour, we are sure, is 
"old enough and knows how," and his " Captain Chub " 
began last month. Here is a letter from another of his 
eager readers : 

E , Mich. 

Dear St. Nicholas: I am a little girl of eleven years and 
I take your lovely magazine called St. Nicholas, and I 



THE LETTER-BOX 



189 



really believe it is as exciting and interesting and lovable as 
jolly old St. Nick himself. 

I am very fond of books and have a great many. I am 
really quite sorry "Harry's Island" has finished, but not 
really very sorry because I know another enjoyable story 
will take its place. But I do wish your magazine would 
come often er, because they stop where it is interesting and 
I forget the ending when I continue to read it. 

I wrote a League story in prose once but I have received 
no badge, but to my delight it was put on the honor roll. 
I wrote a story for the " Detroit Free Press " and received 
a book as a prize. I have a leaflet and League pin, but I 
prize it so much that I do not wear it. Though I have 
taken you but a short year, I have grown to love you and 
would feel very bad to part with you. I have other things 
to say, but fearing my letter will be too long I have con- 
cluded not to write any more. 

Your devoted reader, 

Vivian Smith. 



Columbus Barracks, Ohio. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I am a little army girl, but I have 
been going to a convent in Rochester, New York, for al- 
most four years. But now I am back at an army post at 
Columbus, Ohio. I enjoy the military side of our life very 
much, and it is very interesting to watch parades and drills, 
especially parade as it is accompanied by the military band. 
I have taken you for nearly four years, and I think you 
are fine. • Captain Harold Hammond, who wrote " Pinkey 
Perkins," was my brother's drawing teacher when he was 
a cadet at West Point. The stories I like best are all of 
Mr. Barbour's. Then, " Fritzi," " Pinkey Perkins," and 
" The Gentle Interference of Bab." 

Hoping you will always have great success, I remain. 
Your loving reader, 

Mary G. Bonesteel (age 13). 



T , N. H. 

Dear St. Nicholas: I thought I would tell you about 
the fire. 

One day I was reading St. Nicholas when our man 
was heard calling, "The barn 's on fire." Well, you may 
be sure I was scared, and I ran out of the house as fast as I 
could and sure enough there it was on fire. We have 
three horses and we saved all of them, and all the wagons ; 
a pig and a calf were burned, but we saved the other pig. 

The paint on the house was n't even blistered, although 
it was only about thirty or forty yards away, because we 
kept the hose going. 

I hope this letter is n't too long. Good-by, dear, dear 
St. Nicholas. 

I am your interested reader, 

Mary Hoag (age 10). 



San Francisco. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I am very much interested in your 
Indian stories and shall be very sorry when they end. 
Probably my interest is stimulated by the fact that there 
are a number of Indians in California. We spent three 
of our summers at Lake Tahoe and there the Paiute tribe of 
Indians is quite numerous. They come from Nevada, 
generally around Carson City, and try to sell their winter's 
work, — baskets, — at the different lake resorts. 

There are about forty small lakes in the vicinity of Tahoe 
and the Indians give an interesting legend accounting for 
their formation. Last year in one of the largest lakes. 
Fallen Leaf, two waterlogged canoes were found. They 
had been cut out of a log witli tomahawks. Indian John, 



one old fellow up there who sold bows and arrows, said it 
was a war canoe, but that is all he would tell. 

Last summer we also spent part of our vacation at Yo- 
semite and there we saw some Tulare Indians and a few 
Paiutes. The women work at some of the camps in the 
valley washing clothes and preparing vegetables. The 
men hire themselves out as guides. When we went up to 
Glacier Point we had a very fearless one who kept riding 
in all sorts of dangerous places. Their ponies, for that is 
what they generally use, are very spirited. 

In one family there were four generations living. The 
oldest woman was hardly able to crawl around and the 
youngest was a baby, whose picture we were allowed to 
snap after paying the mother twenty-five cents. 
Yours truly, 

Florence Mallet. 



S , Pa. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I have taken you for three years 
and I enjoy reading you very much. 

Mama took you when you were first published and both 
my brother and I enjoy reading the old numbers. 

I just love to read and when St. Nicholas comes I just 
devour it. 

Your devoted reader, 

Mary Culgan (age 14). 



R , N. J. 

My dear St. Nicholas : It would be impossible for 
me to tell you what pleasure I take in reading you. 

My grandmother lives in New York and I often go to 
see her. I always take a St. Nicholas with me to read on 
the train. 

I live in a small town, but we have great fun climbing 
trees in the summer and coasting in the winter. We coast 
at the golf links where it is very hilly, and go skating at a 
pond near our home. 

Your loving reader, 

Dorothy B. Thomas. 



The young author of the following little story writes us 
that it was suggested to him by the picture on page 131 
of St. Nicholas for last December — a remarkable photo- 
graph, showing a lonely " Life-saver " patrolling the beach 
at Christmas time. 

A LONELY CHRISTMAS 

written by ARTHUR BARNES (aGE II) 

On Christmas night, in the year 1907, tlie life-saving 
station was a pretty lonely place to be in. One man on 
this night was appointed watchman, that is to parade up 
and down the beach, watching for any vessels in need of 
help. It was a dark night, but with here and tliere streaks 
of the moon coming through the clouds. 

This man put on a heavy coat, a pair of earmuffs, a pair 
of hip boots, and took a lantern. The tide was coming in 
and the great heavy rollers came tumbling in, all on top of 
each other. As he walked up and down he thought of his 
warm bed in the station. It seemed as if he was all alone 
in the great world with nobody but the great waves to 
keep him company. 

Suddenly, as he looked out over the dark waters, a 
rocket shot up from behind the horizon. His well-trained 
mind knew in a minute what that meant. As quick as a 
flash he darted back to the station, aroused all of his com- 
panions and soon the news of a wreck spread all tlirough 



190 



THE LETTER-BOX 



the station. Then the life-boats, the cannon, the breeches- 
buoy were all gotten out, and hauled to the beach. 

Out over the ocean now was seen a four-masted schooner 
tossing about in the angry waves, flying a signal of dis- 
tress. Soon the cannon was fired, which carried a line to 
that helpless schooner. Then the life-boat was manned, 
with six men on a side, with the captain or steerer in the 
stern. Soon they were in speaking distance of the schooner, 
and a line was cast off from the vessel and made fast to the 
life-boat. Then the sailors from the schooner were taken 
off, and carried ashore, taken to the station and warmed 
and fed. As for the schooner, she was towed by a tug to 
the nearest city to be repaired. 

When she was hauled out it was found that a whale had 
seen the black hull moving slowly through the water and 
taken it for one of his sea enemies. 

The same day that the schooner was towed oflf, the men 
who were rescued were sent on another tug to the main- 
land, where they took a train for their homes. 



C , III. 

Dear St. Nicholas : I think some of your readers would 
like to hear about my three mice. Mother found a little 
mouse and she made him run out of the house. It sat 
down because it was n't big enough to be afraid. Mother 
called me. I had some shredded biscuit ; I gave him 
some. He ate it. He went down and got his little brother 
to eat with him. I had a box. We put the box there for 
the mouse. It ran out and the cat caught it. The other 
mouse ran in the hole. It came out again. I put him in 
the box. After a while another mouse came out. I put 
him in the box, too, and the next day they both died. 

We buy the St. Nicholas every month and mother 
reads it to me. I enjoy it very much. 
Yours truly, 

Edward Wines (age 7). 

This letter by a little "seven-year-old" is written in a 
simple, direct style that might be used as a model by some 
seventeen, or even seventy-year-olds who have a very 
roundabout way of telling a simple story. 



Here is an interesting letter describing the gathering of 
some Scottish clans : 

Braemar. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I thought you might like to hear 
about the Highland Meef given here two days ago. These 
are held all over the Highlands, once a year, but the Braemar 
gathering is the most important. The Prince and Princess 
of Wales were present with Princes Albert, George, and 
Henry and the Princess Mary, the Duke and Duchess of 
Fife and their two daughters, and the Farquharsons were 
also in the royal box. 

In the morning we walked over to the Invercauld Arms 
to see three of the clans gather. The Royal Stuarts, the 
Dufifs, belonging to the Duke of Fife and the Farquhar- 
sons. They looked beautiful in their plaids, some of them 
had very handsome buckles, pins and dirks, a few had 
" Skean Dhus," these are little knives which the men carry 
in their stockings, some are very prettily ornamented with 
silver and semi-precious stones found in Scotland. These 
knives are used to cut meat with at table. The bagpipers 
and drummers were lovely, the chief drummer of the Far- 
quharson clan wore a leopard skin fastened around his 
neck and hanging down in front. After we had watched 
the procession pass, we went home to lunch, and at about 
half past two set out for the Princess Royal Park, where 
the games were held. We saw all kinds of sports, hurdle 



races, obstacle races, sack races, wrestling, throwing the 
hammer, putting the stone, tossing the caber, a bagpipe 
competition, and reels, hualachans and Highland flings, 
which were danced beautifully. The scenery around the 
grounds was very grand with the mountains covered with 
purple heather in the distance. I can't commence to tell you 
how lovely it all was. After the Prince of Wales arrived 
and just before he left, the three clans paraded around the 
inclosure. I forgot to tell you that the Royal Stuarts car- 
ried spears and wore an oak leaf and a thistle in their 
bonnets, while the DuiTs had Lochaber axes and their 
badge was a sprig of holly, the Farquharsons only had 
pine. They were all very picturesque looking. 

I think I had better close now or my letter will be too 
long. 

With much love and wishing you success all your life. 
Your devoted reader, 

Katharine Seligman. 



Peekskill, N. Y. 
Dear St. Nicholas: A short time ago some things were 
found here at St. Gabriel's, Peekskill, which had been used 
in the time of the Revolution, — pieces of pots and pans 
and some hand-made wrought iron nails, a queer shaped 
spade, and some human bones. 

There had been an oven or fireplace built of stones. 
The place was filled with ashes which had once been the 
logs of the camp that had evidently been burnt. 

Under these ashes the pieces of pots, pans, spade, and 
nails were found. 

A little while later another person found an old musket 
used by the soldiers in the time of the Revolution. 

We know that there was a permanent camp in this place. 
Near by there is a spring and the story has always been 
that Washington used that spring. 

We are all very interested in this and I hope you will be 
as excited as we are. 

Your loving little reader, 

Marcellite Watson (age 11). 



Other letters which lack of space prevents our printing 
have been received from Charles J. Heinold, Helen French, 
Margaret D. Trimble, Lucy F. Kingsbury, Helen Peycke, 
Ruth Butler, Valerie Shannon, Eric H. Marks, E. M. 
Woodward, Marion Pilpel, Bessie Zweiner, Ida Carleton, 
Frances Spencer, Mildred Josephine Creese, Mary Gould- 
ing Fawcett, Stark Compton, Paul F. Bayard, Ida Cecil 
Davis, Gerald Smith, Grace Ashman, R. Gordon Young, 
W. Oilman, Thelma J. Williams, Allison Eaton, Authur S. 
Cook, Betty Lou Crane, Theresa Warner, Marion E. 
Chapin, Fannie FTayes Ingram, Eleanor Greenwood, 
Josephine Trigg Pigott, Clara Louise Lamphear, Alice 
Richards, Beatrice Pierce, Josephine de Gersdorff, 

Isabel Walker, Mildred D , Margaret Hanning, 

Dorothy Gilfeather, Bernice Frankenheimer, Eleanor 
Houghton, Chandler Hale, Jr., Jennie Hazlett, Mar- 
guerite Pearson, Leighta Schuster, Grace B. Woodworth, 
Marion Ploldridge, Pauline Fitz Gerald, Florence 
Cecil Gere, Winnifred S. Pallon, Ben H. Baker, Ethel 
Simmons, Jeanne Beverly Dillard, Marian Grant, Isabella 
Moore, Edward Fellowes, Rose Merritt, Simon Halle, 
Beatrice E. Dail, Robert Blake, Margaret Ruth Hentz, 
John Francis Huyck, Emily I. Case, Preston Holt, Marjorie 
Davies, Darthea Phemister, Gladys May Heacock, Helen 
Elizabeth Adams, Nan Vail, Harriet Leonard, Felix Fried- 
man, Philip Gilbert, Ruth Salveter, Margaret Osborne, 
Constance Meeker, Margaret A. Barber, Ruth L.Lapham, 
Margaret Slack, Olive Tilghman, Irene Demster, Elizabeth 
Howard, Jean Portell Jervey, Elizabeth Kendall, Alniee 
Briol, Josephine Savilla Wilson. 



ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE NOVEMBER NUMBER 



Classical Acrostic. Aphrodite. Cross-words: i. Adonis. 2. 
Plutus. 3. Hector. 4. Rubico. 5. Osiris. 6. Daphne. 7. Idalia. 
8. Thetis. 9. Europa. 

Star Puzzle, i. P. 2. R. R. 3. Praetor. 4. Resume. 5. Tuber. 
6. Omelet. 7. Rereign. 8. T. G. 9. N. 

Diagonal. Charles Dickens, i. Centralization. 2. Chrysanthe- 
mums. 3. Craniometrical. 4. Corruptibilitv. 5. Conclusiveness. 6. 
Crescent-formed. 7. Compulsiveness. 8. Calamanderwood. 9. Cor- 
netapistons. 10. Cucurbitaceous , 11. Clothes-baskets. 12. Cour- 
ageousness. 13. Cairngorm-stone. 14. Cotemporaneous. 

Word-squares. I. i. Omen. 2. Mode. 3. Edna. 4. Neat. II. 
I. Under. 2. Nerve. 3. Drain. 4. Evict. 5. Rents. 

Charade. Ho-me-o-pa-thic. 

Illustrated Central Acrostic. Tennyson. 1. Notes. 2. Fleet. 
3. Candy. 4. Dance. 5. Rhyme. 6. Casks. 7. Crown. 8. Dunce. 



Novel Acrostic. Initials, Charles Dickens ; third row, " Pick- 
wick Papers. " Cross-words: i. Cypriot. 2. Hairpin. 3. Ascribe. 
4. Rokeage. 5. Lawless. 6. Edifice. 7. Seclude. 8. Dakotas. 9. 
Impeach. 10. Chagrin, it. Kipskin. 12. Ejector. 13. Norther. 14. 
Session. 



Letter Puzzle, i. Tree. 



Reel. 



Eels. 



Else. 



3. ii.eis. 4. 

Double Beheadings and Curtailings. Initials, Sherman: zig- 
zag, America, i. Sanable, sale, ban. 2. Hamlets, hats, elm. 3. 
Eaglets, eats, leg. 4. Refrain, rein, far. 5. Manikin, main, kin. 6. 
Alcoran, Alan, roc. 7. Nutgall, null, tag. 

St. Andrew's Cross of Diamonds. I. i. E. 2. Amb (o). 3 
Anele. 4. Emerald. 5. Bland. 6. Eld. 7. D. II. i. D. 2. Vis 
3. Vesta. 4. Distend. 5. Stern. 6. Ann. 7. D. III. i. D, 
Dis. 3. Diana. 4. Diamond. 5. Snort. 6. Ant. 7. D. IV. i. D, 
2. Bis. 3. Basta. 4. Discord. 5. Stoic. 6. Arc. 7. D. V. i. D 
2. Try. 3. Tweed. 4. Dreamed. 5. Yemen. 6. Den. 7. D. 



To our Puzzlers : Answers to be acknowledged in the magazine must be received not later than the 15th of each month, and should be ad- 
dressed to St. Nicholas Riddle-box, care of The Century Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City. 

Answers to all the Puzzles in the September Number were received before September 15th from Alice Lowenhaupt — Dorothy Haug 
— Four of "Wise Five" — "Toots and Dor" — Margaret H. Smith—" Peter Pan and Tinker Bell" — Dorothy Fo.x— John F. Hubbard, Jr. — Erma 
Quinby — Evangeline G. Coombes — Willie L. Lloyd, Jr. — Elena Ivey — Frances Mclver — Elsie, Lacieand Tillie — Violet W. Hoff — Peg and Meg 
— Walter H. B. Allen — " Queenscourt " — Ida Finlay. 

Answers to Puzzles in the September Number were received before September 15th from R. M. Overocken 9 — Edna Meyle, 9 — Alice 
H. Farnsworth, 7 — Lois L. Holway, 3 — Hamilton B. Bush, 8 — Helen Cohen, 2 — Elva Schulze, 2 — Betty and Marj, 7 — Peggy Shufeldt, 9. The 
following sent answers to one puzzle: S. A. — A. C. G. — C. I. R. — R. H. K. — I. D. — " Hoppy S. and Joan." 



PRIMAI, ACROSTIC 

(Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition) 

Al.L the words described contain the same number of let- 
ters. When rightly guessed and written one belo'w another 
the initial letters will spell the name of a Revolutionary 
hero. 

Cross-words : i. A feminine name. 2. Claws. 3. 
A farm implement. 4. The first name of the heroine of 
"Children of the Abbey." 5. Not any one. 6. A continent. 
7. Flexible. 8. To attend closely. 9. Mistakes. 10. 
Agile. 

PHILIP SHERMAN ("age ID). 



dew. My 25-46-21-27-35-14 is to make holy. My 33-3- 
19-29-1 is what we all do at Christmas. My 12-44-41- 
37-28-26-20-38-15-36 are flowers that come when winter 
is over. My 18-40-24-28 is a^nother name for Christmas. 
IDA E. c. FINLAY (Honor Member). 




STOKICAL 


ZIGZAG 


, ... II 

. , . 8 . 


• • 


• S * • • 


2 . 


• » ■ • • 


13 ■ 


.* 3 • 12 . 


. . 


■ I * • • 


9 • 
. 6 


• , 10 . 4 




* ■ ■ • 7 





{Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition) 
By beginning with a certain letter and going round and 
round, skipping the same number of letters each time, five 
words, often heard at this season of the year, may be 
spelled. Designed by 

CONVASS B. DEAN. 
CHEISTMAS NUMERICAL ENIGMA 

I KM composed of forty-eight letters and form a line from 
Tennyson's "May Queen." 

My 14-10-38-22-36 are musicians welcome at Christ- 
mas. My 6-47-8-14-39-31-13-48 is a useful article in 
winter weather. My 45-16-32-6-24-7-42-29 form an im- 
portant part of Christmas. My 23-5-19-16-30-43 is a cozy 
place in winter. My 2-1 7-46-34-1 1-4-40-29-9 is frozen 



Cross-words : I. A battle fought in Africa, in 46 B.C., 
in which Caesar was victorious. 2. The name of t\ro 
kings of France. 3. A former kingdom of the Moors in 
Spain. 4. A race of people in the East with whom Eng- 
•land had trouble in the nineteenth century. 5. The name 
of an unsuccessful conspiracy of Huguenots in 1560. 6. 
A Prussian marshal who played a prominent part in the 
battle of Waterloo. 7. A battle in the Austro-Sardinian 
War, in 1859. 8. An Englishman who showed unusual 
courtesy to Queen Elizabeth. 9. The legendary founder 
of Rome. 

The zigzag, shown by stars, will spell the name of a 
battle fought in October; the letters from i to 13 will spell 
the title and surname of the victor. 

ELIZABETH D. LORD (League Member). 

A DIAGONAIi 

All the words described contain the same number of let- 
ters. When rightly guessed and written one below 
another the diagonal (from the upper left-hand letter to 
the lower right-hand letter) will spell the name of a 
popular game. 

Cross-words: i. A game. 2. Often on the supper 
table. 3. Easily broken. 4. A vegetable. 5. A docu- 
ment highly prized by a student. 6. Pledged. 7. A 
character in "Much Ado About Nothing." 

RUTH s. COLEMAN (League Member). 



191 



192 



THE RIDDLE-BOX 




This differs from the ordinary numerical enigma in that 
the words forming it are pictured instead of described. 
The answer, consisting of sixty-three letters, is a quotation 
from Shakspere. 

PRIMAL ACROSTIC 

{Silver Badge, St, Nicholas League Competition) 
All the words described contain the same number of let- 
ters. When rightly guessed and written one below 
another, the initials will spell the name of a legal holiday. 
Cross-words: i. Pinched. 2. To be added. 3. A 
remote planet of the solar system. 4. A Scotch pudding. 
5. To soak. 6. A sea nymph. 7. A fine assemblage. 8. 
A cord or bundle of fibers. 9. A kind of limestone. 10. 
Lower. 11. A specimen. 12. A warning light. 13. Time 
or turn of being in. 14. New. 15. Idle talk. 16. A 
rope for hanging malefactors. 17. To fondle. 18. Shrewd. 
19. Milfoil. 

LUCILE STRULLER. 

CONNECTED SQUARES 



I. Upper Square: i. To crack. 2. Refined. 3. A 
measurement. 

From I to 2, without an equal. 

II. Lower Square : 2. A large bird. 3. To burn. 4. 
Certain. 

marjorie catlin (League Member). 

TRANSPOSITIONS 

Rearrange the letters of one word so as to form another 
word. Example: 

Transpose a box whose sides are wooden slats and make 
to mark out. Answer: crate, trace. 

I. Transpose soil, and make a vital organ. 2. Trans- 
pose to accost, and make a kind of heron. 3. Transpose 
intends, and make specifies. 4. Transpose a dazzling 
light, and make kingly. 5. Transpose more lively, and 
make a German soldier. 6. Transpose equipped, and 



make an idle fancy. 7. Transpose scolded, and make 
commerce. 8. Transpose a swamp, and make injures, 
9. Transpose a subject, and make an eye. 10. Transpos( 
a sea-nymph, and make part of a harness. 11. Transpose 
an island in the Mediterranean, and make upright. 12. 
Transpose songs of triumph, and make a tree. 13. Trans- 
pose pertaining to the moon, and make pertaining to the 
elbow. 

When the transpositions have been rightly made, the in- 
itials of the new words will spell the name of a famous 
American naturalist. 

LOUISE FiTZ (Honor Member). 

CHARADE 

{Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition) 
'^Y first is a person you know very well, 

My second is not far astray ; 
My third is the " short " of a famous man's name. 

And \\t fourths what he wishes to say 
To the people who live in my whole; m 

Now, you surely can guess it to-day. 

ERMA QUINBY. 
ENDLESS CHAIN 

All the words described contain the same number of let- 
ters. To form the second word, take the last two letters 
of the first word ; to form the third, take the last two letters 
of the second, and so on. 

I. Ireland. 2. Within. 3. A constellation. 4. Spicy. 

5. Part of a molding, 6. A labyrinth. 7. A Greek deity. 

8. Occupied. 9. To prepare for publication. 10. An 

article. 11. A large bird. 12. A pitcher. 13. Ireland. 

GRACE LOWRNHAUPT (Honor Member). 

NOVEL ACROSTIC 

All the words described contain the same number of let- 
ters. When rightly guessed and written one below 
another, the initial letters will name a famous writer, and 
another row of letters will spell the title of a book by this 
author. 

Cross-words: I. Sudden little squalls. 2. A choice or 
select body. 3. Dishes of stewed meat. 4. At hand. 5. 
Aeriform fluids. 6. An ant. 7. Lifted up. 8. Great. 9. 
Interior. 10. A large body of water. 11. Weeds. 

ALTHEA B. MORTON (Honor Member). 



THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK, 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




MAKES A MERRY CHRISTMAS 
SANTA CLAUS' BEST GIFT 

LAMONT, CORLISS & CO., Sole Agents, 78 Hudson St., New York 



High As 
The Alps 
In Quality 



Dec. 1908 



17 



■S"/. Nicholas League Advertising Competition No. 8^. 



Time to hand in answers is up December JO. Prizes awarded in February number. 



The Judges are filing into the St. 
Nicholas Court Room to announce 
the Christmas Competition; and before 
they take their places, they blow their 
finger-tips, and warm their judicial toes 
in front of the fire, and wish you all 

A Merry Christmas! 

Now let 's have a little informal chat 
together before the business of the 
day, or month, begins. This is only 
November, and yet we call out Merry 
Christmas! Did you ever think that 
old. Santa Claus has really been saying 
Christmas to himself for many moons ? 
Way back in July, while you were 
down at the seashore, or climbing the 
mountains, or driving the cows on the 
farm, or riding on a 'bus along High 
Holborn, or taking a "taxi" in Paris 
for a drive in the Bois, the makers of 
good things were ready for your 
Christmas celebration. 

The business men of this great 
country have been counting on you to 
buy this or that for Mother or Father 
or Sister, and when hundreds of thou- 
sands of boys and girls begin to buy 
things, evjen the grave bankers have to 
provide for the money that is drawn 
out of the banks. 

The Judges want you to realize 
something of the importance of this 
good time to the business men of 
America. You all are of importance 
to them. Now the Judges are taking 
their places and you are listening, they 
hope, to these words, — listening., from 
Maine and Florida, and Mexico, and 
California, and Washington, the is- 
lands of the Pacific — all round the 
world, and without having to use a 
telephone, or telegraph, or cable, — 
just by the magic of St. Nicholas, 

1 8 See also 



which makes us all, Judges, and Boys, 
and Girls, one family. There are more 
than 60,000 of you enrolled on the 
Judges' lists, competitors and ex-com- 
petitors. Now here is the announce- 
ment. 

You know the Judges said you were 
helpful to the business men of the 
country. 

Look over this number, and see how 
important you are. Here are pub- 
lishers and merchants and great manu- 
facturers telling you about their wares. 

Tucked away behind those eyes of 
yours, there are some thoughts that 
would be helpful to St. Nicholas 
advertisers. 

For Competition No. 84 take any 
St. Nicholas advertiser off on a 
Christmas journey and illustrate by a 
drawing, how his goods would look in 
foreign countries, or in the United 
States away from ordinary surround- 
ings. For instance, show Libby's maid 
serving luncheons (most delectable) at 
a camp in the Adirondacks, or Ivory 
Soap proving most refreshing after a 
day's journey on camel back through 
the desert, or Dorothy Dainty being 
presented to the Emperor of Japan — 
oh ! you 've caught the idea already. 
Take any advertiser. Swift, or Pears, or 
Peter's Chocolates, and just picture 
them journeying about in strange lands. 
For those who can't draw well, the 
Judges will allow you to tell an imagi- 
nary story of such an outing, in length 
not to exceed 300 words. 

Now take pen and paper, and re- 
member to follow the rules long laid 
down for your guidance. 

A Merry Christmas again to you all. 

St. Nicholas 

Competition Judges. 

page 20. 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




99 



''I Thought Our Dresses Were Ruined 

"A very dear friend of mine was spending the day with me, and I awkwardly upset a big Inkstand and spilled 
the ink on lier skirt and mine. I could have cried, but she was so nice about it and said, 'Don't worry, it isn't a new 
skirt anyway, and now I am going to dye it a navy blue with I iamond Dyes.' I said I would color mme, too, so the 
next day we had a Diamond Dye party, and both colored our skirts. Mine I dyed black, and really, after it was all 
over, we were both glad it a'.l happened. The skirts after they were pressed looked so nice and so like new 



never forget how Diamond Dyes got us out of our trouble." 



IshaU 
— Isabel McDermott, Suffalo, Jf. Y. 



Diamond Dyes Solve Dressing Problems 

Every woman who has any pride wants to dress well, and dressing well is always a hard problem. 

Look over the clothes that you are wearing or those you haven't worn for some time. You wiU be 
sure to find some waists, or a skirt, or a dress, not worn out, just old-looking, spotted, faded, or a little 
out of style. 

" Making over" an old dress and changing the color to a fresh, new shade with the help of Diamond 
Dyes gives all the variety of something new that could not look a bit prettier. A woman dislikes to 
wear "last year's things" and there's no need to. Diamond Dyes do magical things with last year's 
clothes. Tou can dye waists, skirts, dresses, without ripping, or you can rip and choose a new color and 
make over. There are ribbons and laces and trimmings that can be made bright and new again with 
Diamond Dyes. 



Diamond Dyes are the Standard of the World and always give 
perfect results. You must he sure that you pet the real Diamond 
Dyes and the kind of Diamond Dyes adapted to the article yon 
intend to dye. 

Beware of Imitations of Diamond Dyes. Imitators Trho make only one 
kind of dye, cUim that their Imitations will color Wool, Silk, or Cotton 
(■'all fabrics") equally well. This cljiim is false, because no dye that 
Will give the finest results on Wool, Silk, or other animal fibres, can be 
used as suceessfnlly for dyeing t'otton. Linen, or ottier vegetable fibres. 
For this reason we make two Ifinds of Diamond Dyes, namely : Diamond 
Dyes for Wool, and Diamond Dyes for Cotton. 



Important Facts About Goods to be Dyed : 

Diamond Dyes for Wool cannot he used for coloring Cotton, 
Linen or Mixed Goods, but are especially adapted for Wool, Silk, 
or other animal fibres, which take up the dye quickly. 

Diamond Dyes for Cotton are especially adapted for Cotton, 
Linen, or other vegetable fibres, •which take up the dye slowly. 

"Mixed Goods," also known as "Union Goods," are made chiefly 
of either Cotton, Linen, or other vegetable fibres. For this reason 
our Diamond Dyes for Cotton are the best dyes made for these 
goods. 



New Diamond Dye Annual Free.— Send rs your name and address (be sure to mention your dealer's name 
and tell us whether he sells Diamond Dyes), and we will send you a copy of the new Diamond Dye Annual, a copy 
of the Direction Book, and samples of dyed cloth, all FREE. Address 

"WELLS & EICHARDSON CO., BXJKLINGTON, VT. 

Diamond Dyes are the Standard PacKage Dyes. Every Imitation Proves It. 



19 



THE ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



For the best answers received in this competition 
the following prizes will be awarded : 

One First Prize of $5. Three Third Prizes of $2 each. 

Two Second Prizes of $3 each. Ten Fourth Prizes of $1 each. 

I. This Competition is open freely to all who may 
desire to compete, without charge or consideration of 
any kind. Prospective contestants need not be sub- 
scribers for St. Nicholas in order to compete for the 
prizes offered. 

2. In the upper left-hand corner of your paper, give name, age, 
address, and the number of this competition (84). Judges prefer 
paper to be not larger than 12 x 12 inches. 

3. Submit answers by December 10, 1908. Use ink. Write on 
one side of paper. Do not inclose stamps. Fasten your pages to- 
gether at the upper left-hand corner. 

4. Do not inclose request for League badges or circulars. Write 
separately for these if you wish them, addressing ST. NICHO- 
LAS LEAGUE. 

5. Be sure to comply with these conditions if you wish to win prizes. 

6. Address answers: Advertising Competition, No. 84, St. 
Nicholas League, Union Square, New York, N. Y. 



REPORT ON COMPETITION No. 82 

This Competition ran two months, because 
St. Nicholas for October was published Sep- 
tember 15, and you thought you had till Sep- 
tember 20 to send in your answers. So the 
Judges gave you till October 15 to be fair to you. 
The consequence is that a great number of replies 
have been received. 

And Competitors ! You should be here to see 
the answers ! Most of you again stumbled on that 
old brick, the possessive mark, and the place 
where the brick was hidden was in "Higgins' 
Eternal Ink." Many of those who were other- 
wise perfect put the apostrophe before the "s," 
thereby intimating that the familiar manufacturer 
answers to the name of "Higgin"! There is a 
Haggin, and a Hagen, but if there is a Higgin he 
is n't our friend who makes the Eternal Ink. 
There is a good deal said about this, because it 
is by doing just such little things correctly that 
you show your unremitting vigilance, and also be- 
cause in the July report the Judges went fully 
into the matter of possessives. 

There were several answers among which it was 
hard to choose, and which responded to all the 
tests of the Judges. Prizes have been given on 
the following points : Perfect work, Neatness, 
Age; and then when three or four competitors' 
work and ages were about equal, the prize went to 
the one who had been competing longest. This 
was deemed quite fair, and as you would desire it. 

You would be surprised if you knew the length 
of time some of these enthusiastic young friends 
have been trying to make their competition papers 
good enough to stand trial by the Judges, only 
to have them run against some hidden obstacle 
like that possessive mark, and presto ! out they 
would go ! There is little doubt, though, that 
these failures, so called, are good for foundations 
on which to build ; because the Competitor who 
keeps at it through discouragements is bound to 
come out well in the end. So to all those who 
have tried and tried, the Judges say, "Your work 
has been noticed " and every time you compete, 
we say," Well, here is another answer from Ellen, 
or John, or Elizabeth, and we do hope he or she 
will do well this time." 



You see, in the St. Nicholas filing cases are 
kept your name, address, and age, and the num- 
ber of times you have competed, with the prizes 
you have been good enough to win. Your work 
is not lost sight of ; nor is your development un- 
noted. When you read this you will be thinking 
of Thanksgiving, and the cozy fire, and the turkey 
done to a turn. Can't you try to do this new 
Competition " to a turn ": can't you put all your 
mind and imagination, and your trained fingers at 
work, so as to produce on paper a good copy of 
what your mind dictates ? 

The Judges have been asking you for hard, 
"fussy" things, — a little apostrophe put in the 
right place, for instance : now they are asking for 
just as careful work in a slightly different wayl 
Here is a chance for you all — so begin now — 
with your drawing, or story telling, and don't 
worry about the past ones. St. NICHOLAS will 
find lots of work for you all. 

LIST OF PRIZE-WINNERS 
Advertising Competition No. 82 
One First Prize of $3.00: 

Lucinda H. Bradford, (15), Pittsburg, Pa. 

Two Second Prizes 0/^3.00 Each: 

Dorothy Fox, (15), Lexington, Mass. 
George F. Riegel, (14), Philadelphia, Pa. 

Three Third Prizes 0/ $2.00 Each: 

Buford Brice, (14), Washington, D. C. 
Bryce Blanchard, (17), Neponsef, Mass. 
Harriet McAlister, (9), Logan, Utah. 

Ten Fourth Prizes 0/ $1.00 Each: 

Bruce S. Simonds, (12), Bridgeport, Conn. 

Ellen Greenbaum, (10), Laramie, Wyoming. 

Merrill M. Goodhue, (13), Chestnut Hill, Mass. 

Dorothy Ochtman, (16), Coscob, Conn. 

Charlotte Bassett, (14), Edmonds, Wash. 

Katherine Rolfe, (14), Albany, N. Y. 

Annette Howe-Carpenter, (16), Denver, Colo. 

Marjorie Thurston, (14), Chicago, 111. 

Lucy Cornelia Wheeler, (12), East Bloomfield, N. Y. 

Dorothy Yaeger, (14), Washington, D. C. 

SPECIAL HONOR ROLL 

Marjorie Haug, (12), Knoxville, Tenn. 
Albert Gerberich, (10), Parkersburg, Pa. 
Ruth Cadwell, (16), Hartford, Conn. 
Hilda R. Bronson, (16), Morgan Park, 111. 
Mary L. Powell, (15), New York City. 
Charies W. Horr, (14), Newark, N. J. 
Robert F. Milde, (13), Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Helen Cartwright Malmar, (12), Nutley, N. J. 
Margaret F. Whittaker, (13), Wilmington, Del. 

FORMER PRIZE-WINNERS 

Ruth M. Hapgood, (16), Hartford, Conn. 

Mary M. P. Shipley, Philadelphia. 

Mabel Mason, (17), Farmington, Conn. 

Helen M. Copeland, (17), Newton Centre, Mass. 

Rebecca E. Meakci, (15), Carbondale, Pa. 

Margaret Eleanor Hibbard, (15), Iberville, Quebec. 

John E. Burke, (15), Milwaukee, Wis. 

Martha Noll, (14), Cambridge, Mass. 

Alice D. Laughlin, (12), Pittsburg, Pa. 

Edward B. Rogers, (13), Lovington, Va. 

ANSWERS TO COMPETITION No. 82 



1. Macbeth Chimneys. 

2. Victor Talking ^lachine. 

3. Pond's Extract. 

4. Postum Cereal Coffee. 

5. Shawknit Socks. 

6. Pyle's Pearline. 

7. Crystal Domino Sugar. 

8. Higgins' Eternal Ink. 

9. Prudential Insurance 

Company. 
10. Waterman's Ideal Fountain 
Pen. 



11. Baker's Cocoa. 

12. National Cloaks and 

Suits. 

13. Durkee's Salad Dressing. 

14. Diamond Dyes. 

15. Ivory Soap. 

16. Calox Tooth Powder. 

17. Chiclets. 

18. Shredded Wheat Biscuit. 

19. Libby Food Products. 

20. Krementz Collar Button. 



20 



See also page 18. 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




Handing Out Money 

for "Nerve Medicine" and keeping right on drinking coffee, is like 
pouring oil on a fire with one hand and water with the other. 

Coffee contains a drug — Caffeine — and much of the "nervous- 
ness/' headaches, insomnia, indigestion, loss of appetite, and a long 
train of ails, come from the regular use of coffee. 

Prove it by leaving off coffee 10 days and use well made 
Postum. 

Such a test works at both ends of the problem, you leave off 
the drug, caffeine (contained in coffee), and you take on the 
rebuilding food elements in Postum. 

A personal test will prove that '» There's a Reason" for 

POSTUM 

Postum Cereal Co., Ltd., Battle Creek, Michigan, U. S. A. 



21 



w^ 



l22BgSZ2ZZZZ2ZSZ?^?2ZZZ222Z'?2!^?i^Z?2ZZ2ZZZZ2Mid/^^ 



ST. NICHOLAS STAMP PAGE 






i 



I 




EARLY ISSUES OF VARIOUS COUNTRIES 

''INHERE has not been in recent years a great deal of 
J. cliange in the way of increase in the prices of the 
older issues of stamps. The tendency has been on the 
contrary downward, if one considers the greater dis- 
counts at which such issues have been sokh This, how- 
ever, does not prove that these old stamps are becoming 
more common. On the contrary, there can be no 
question that the number of fine specimens which can 
be obtained is continually decreasing. Consequently, 
it will not be long before a change will be seen in the 
prices which tlie catalogues make for these stamps. A 
writer in a recent issue of a stamp paper calls attention 
to the great increase which is seen in the number of col- 
lectors in Germany, stating that the business of one of 
the larger firms is increasing steadily and he concludes 
his remarks by asking what will happen when all these 
collectors desire the old issues. We all know what will 
happen and there can be no better direction toward which 
to turn one's efforts than that of the securing of all 
obtainable specimens of the early issues of every country. 

THE PONY EXPRESS 

THE Pony Express for which 
the stamp illustrated was used, 
was an interesting development of 
the idea of a fast mail. In i860 
three weeks were required to get 
the mails from New York to San 
Francisco by way of the Isthmus 
of Panama. Wells, Fargo & Co. 
decided upon a pony express, which 
by means of relays enabled them 
to cover the distance between the Pacific coast and the 
Missouri River in eight days, thus reducing the time 
from New York to San Francisco by a week. The gov- 
ernment paid high prices for the carrying of the mails, 
and until the telegraph service was established in 1862 
the pony express was very successful. 

THE VALUES OF STAMPS 

COLLECTORS sometimes experience considerable 
discouragement on finding that the value of their 
collections does not equal the prices that are set opposite 
the stamps in the catalogues. The difficulty is that they 
do not understand the way in which catalogues are 
made. It is well to recognize the fact that the values 
set opposite low-priced stamps, that is, those listed at 
five cents each or less, represent mainly the cost of 
handling. It is true that there are notable exceptions 
to this rule. There are some varieties which although 
low-priced are exceedingly difficult to obtain. These 
exceptions only show, however, that there is a rule 
which is simply that those stamps in common use in all 
countries have no value while in use, and for a consider- 
able time after they have passed out of use. Also it is 
not reasonable in examining one's catalogue to conclude 
that the large number of higher-priced stamps which 
can be bought at a discount of fifty per cent, or more 
are worth anything like catalogue prices. The writer in 
valuing a collection has always been in the habit of con- 
sidering such stamps as these worth in net cash about 
one quarter of the catalogue prices. There are other 
high-priced stamps, however, which are seldom offered 
for sale in good condition at more than twenty-five per 



cent, discount from catalogue prices. This is true, for 
instance, not only of such rare stamps as the early issues 
for the Philippjnes and Hawaii, but also lor such low- 
priced issues as the first stamps of Norway. The writer 
remembers once selling to a dealer about two hundred 
specimens of the four skilling blue of the 1854 issue of 
Norway at eight cents each, which was then the full cat- 
alogue price. Another class of stamps which has a value 
closely approximating the prices of the catalogue is the 
unused current stamps. Twenty-five per cent, discount 
is as low as these can be sold by any one at a profit 
which will cover the cost of handling. The stamps best 
worth buying are those which are sold at prices nearest 
to those of the catalogue. It is necessary, of course, 
in buying such stamps to know that one is not paying 
more than they are worth and, therefore, a careful 
study and comparison, not only of catalogue prices, but 
also of the prices asked for stamps by various dealers 
is necessary in order to understand real values. The 
understanding of such matters is very important to the 
young collector who desires not only to secure a good 
collection but also to get it at a reasonable price. 

BOSNIAN STAMPS 

THE present disturbances occurring in Bosnia and 
the desire of Austria to annex this country make it 
probable that collectors generally will be seeking to 
complete their collections of this country's stamps. 
There are none of the principal issues that are unob- 
tainable and few of them are even scarce. Also the 
later issues are of a picturesque character which makes 
them very desirable. The natural characteristics of the 
country, buildings, fortifications, bridges, modes of 
travel and many other interesting matters are to be dis- 
covered by a study of these stamps. Their use will 
probably be discontinued and the stamus of Austria 
substituted for them. 

ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS 

^ A DATE and the name of a town printed across a 
l\ United States stamp indicates that it was " pre- 
canceled." The Government allows large users of 
stamps in various cities to have them canceled before 
applying them to mail matter, thus saving the time of 
Government employees and enabling the senders to get 
out their mail with greater expedition than would other- 
wise be possible. CThe variations in tiie recngraved 
stamps of Cuba may be seen by a study of the catalogue 
in which these varieties are illustrated. There are no 
" secrect marks " in the sense in which these were once 
placed upon United States issues. CThere is no bock 
published which will enable the beginner to do his col- 
lecting correctly. The stamp papers and this page in 
St. Nicholas endeavor to give information of this 
sort at all times and collectors are requjssted to send in 
any questions that occur to them in relation to col- 
lecting. CThe stamps of Norway with the posthoin 
unshaded differ only slightly from the shaded variety and 
it is best in selecting specimens of the earlier or shaded 
variety to see that they were printed from plates in good 
condition, as stamps from worn plates look very much 
like the unshaded varieties. Stamps of French colonies 
with letters printed across them were used in special 
places indicated by these letters. N. S. B., for instance, 
stands for Nossi Be, N. C. E. for New Caledonia. 



''A 






ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



Now Ready! 



Needed by every collector! 




TWENTIETH CENTURY EDITION 
International Stamp Album 

For stamps issued since Jan. i, 1901. Brought right up to date. 
Post free prices: $1.75, $2.00, $3.00. Finer editions, $5.00 to 
$25.00. Send for price list. 

SCOTT CATALOGUE FOR 1909 t 

Now ready! 800 pages. Describes and prices all stamps. Fully- 
illustrated. 60c post free. 

^T A A/I I>Q ins different, including 
O 1 /AITir^O lUO ne^ Panama, old 

Chile, Japan, curious Turkey, scarce Paraguay, 
Philippines, Costa Rica, West Australia, several un- 
used, some picture stamps, etc., all for 10c. Big list 
and copy of monthly paper free. Approval sheets, 
5c% commission. 
SCOTT STAMP & COIN CO.. 18 East 23d St., New York 

CHRISTMAS PRESENTS 

Nothing will please the boys and girls more than a 
POSTAGJE STAMP ALBUM 

The Modern. 2200 illustrations, holds 10,000 stamps, $1.25. 
The Imperial. 35c. Other styles 5c. to $25.00. Also 
Postage Stamp Packets and Sets. 25 to 4,000 varieties. 
Prices 5c. to $85.00. Buy one and let the young folks have a 
JVlerry Christmas looking them over. Large price-list and 2 
unused pictorial stamps free on request. 
New England Stamp Co., 43 Washington BIdg., Boston. 

Each set 5 cts. — 10 Luxemburg; 8 Fin- 
land : 20 Sweden ; 4 Labuan ; 8 Costa 
Rica; 12 Porto Rico; 8 Dutch Indies; 5 Crete. Lists of 5000 
low-priced stamps free. CHAJVIBERS STAMP CO., 

Ill G Nassau Street, New York City. 

40 different U. S. for the names of two collec- 
tors and 2c. postage. 1000 Mixed Foreign, 12c. 
4 Congo Coins, 25c. Toledo Stamp Co., Toledo, Ohio. 

STAMP AI-BCM with 688 eennine Stamps, incl. Kho" 
desia, Congo (tiger), China (dragon), Tasmania {laudscapei» 
Jan^aica (waterfalls), etc., only 10c. Agts. Wtd. 50per cent- 
liie barKuiii lii^t, coupons and a set of rare 
Stamps worth 80c. ALL FREE ! We Buy Stamps. 
C< E. HIT8SMA1V CO., Dept. I, St. Louis, Mo. 

VARIETIES URUGUAY FREE with trial approval 
sheets. F.E. THORP Norwich N.Y. 



BARGAINS 



Stamps Free 





STAMPS 




108 all difT. Transvaal, Servia, Bra- 
zil, Peru, Cape G. H., Mexico, Na- 
I tal, Java, etc., and Album 5c. 1000 FINELY 
I MIXED 20c. G3 diff. U. S. 25c. looo hinges 5c. 
Agents wtd. SCJ. LIST FREE. I buy stamps. 
C. STEGMAW. 5941 Cote Brill Avenue, ST. LOUIS, MO. 

■piJWJ'TJ' 40 U. S. from 1851 to 1902 for the names of two col- 

* axJCid lectors and 2c. postage, no all diff. and album loc. 

P. CROVVELLi STAMP CO., Toledo, Ohio. 

STAMPS! Oir I^eader: 1000 stamps many 
varieties, incl. Malay, Newfoundland, Philip- 
pines, Comoro, Congo, etc. only 15c. Stamp Al- 
bum, coupons, large l^e^v list, hargain tists all 
Free ! Agts. wtd. so^o- We Kuy Stamps. 
K. J. Schuster Co., Pept. 30, St. t,ouis, Mo. 

Tuf MC ONCE. 8*Prussiaofficial 19038c, 2Tasmania(view) 
I ry ni C 2c, 3 *Bolivia'94 4c, and 5 and loc 1901 2C, 4 Bul- 
garia'*96 complete 7c; Netherlands 1 gld '98 3c: 7 *Dominican 
Republic 1902 complete 10c ; Ecuador 50c * '96 4c and is * '96 6c. 
All for 40c. {* Means unused.) i28p illus. Album 25c. Entire 
unused Foreign Post Card FREE every order. Can I send you 
some approval sheets? F. J. STANTON, Norwich, N. Y. 

U^ rniV^ SetofS, 50c. ^c, Ic. big, le. eagle, le. 
. «J. VVrHIJ nickel, 2c., 3e. silver, 3c. nickel, 5c. silver. 
^^ Stamp and coin lists free. R.M.Lanq- 
ZETTEL, l.")4 Elm St., opp. Yale Gymnasium, New Haven, Conn. 

RvitSeU PAlnniolc'''''''^ Finest Stock. ;o difTerent, icc. 

■IIIII3II WUIUEIIalS 50 Picture stamps, 52c; 6 Gold Coast, loc ; 
7 Hong Kongr, loc; 6 Barbados, locj ^ Fiji, 6c ! 7 Stra'ts, loc. Larj;^e de- 
scriptive catalog free. fOLONIAL STAMP (.0., 9.i;l K. 63(1 St., Chicago. 

P Q P P 10 Good Stamps from 10 different countries, for 
f K P. t 2<^ return postage. Approvals 75% discount. 
■ ■■ Ita ha KOLONA STAMP CO., Pay ton, Ohio. 

ST A M PS. 100 Foreign, all different, 5c. Approval Sheets. 
Reference. The Victor Stamp Co., 444 Quincy Ave., Scranton, Pa. 

IJl^* Tfetf^llc Comfort children cold nights and drives. 
***'* *#W£l,a Lithographed cloth outside; best quality 
rubber lining; holds hot water. Patty Comfort, o«c quart, $1.50. 
Minnehaha, two quarts, $2.00. Patty Joy, celluloid head, 
hooded red coat, %2.2h. Itzforvtation oil request. Patejited, 
Mrs. PATTY COMFORT, 183 Main St., Andover, Mass. 




**Snowless Coasting** 

Boys and Girls, Get a Rockaway. Runs on roller bearings. Can 
salely coast without snow anywucre a sled runs. No dragging feet. 
New guiding principle. Safety brake regulates speed. Sent direct $3.50; 
express prepaid east Rocky Mountains. Order ixom this ad. ; money back if 
not satisfied. Wholesalers, dealers, order big for Christmas. 
Write for free Booklet — '^ Stio-wless Coasting.** 

THE ROCKAWAY COASTER CO., 71 RaceSt.,Cincinnati,0 . 

S"^^"T" ym Tf"^ ^— -^ SCO Ail Uillerent 
|_^l /-% m ^ y^ Foreign Stamps for 

■^ ^ ^"^^ "^^ ■ ' only 10 cents. 

8g All different United States Stamps, includingr old issues of 1853. 1861. 
etc. Civil War revenue, including $r.oo and $2.00 values, etc., tor only 
18 cents. With each order we send our 6-page pamphlet, which tells 
all about " How to make a collection of stamps properly." Our Monthly 
bargain lists of sets, packets, albums, etc., free for the asking. 

QUEEN CITY STAMP & COIN CO., 7 Sinton Building. Cincinnati, 0. 

SHETLAND PONIES 

Ask for a Shetland Pony for your 

XMAS GIFT 

Beauties for all ages. All registered 
MONTROSE SHETLAND PONY FARM 

CARTKllSYILI.K, TA. 

i^l^y;^Q-|- largest loo-page paper, stamps, coins, souvenir 
^-'*^^^^1 postcards, curios, relics, old books, mineralogy, 
etc., three months, IOC Sample free. 

Collectors' World and Pbilatelic West, Superior, Nebraska. 





THAT DAINTY MINT COVERED 
CANDY COATED CHEWING GUM 

AN OUNCE FOR A NICKEL iNOiNSl andI0%CKET5 

FRANK H. FLEER SCO.JNC.PHitAOELPHiAANDTORONro. 

iBIMBIHHIIIiiilliiaMaHKHM^ 



■23 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



Ask Your Mamma 

to let you make a Yule-Tide Currant 
Cake for your Papa's Christmas Dinner. 
You can eat all you want of it yourself 

Currant Bread 

is fine, too, for school lunches or any 
other kind. Tell your mother that 
Currants are a naturally dried seedless 
grape from Greece, containing more 
than 75 per cent, of nutriment. She '11 
understand that. 

PRIZE OFFER 

$5.00 will be paid for the two best accounts of 
how you made your Christmas Currant Cake. 
Send in your story to the address below be- 
fore January 1, 1909. 

This competition is open freely to all who may desire to compete without charge or 

consideration of any kind. 

Mothers : Send for " Currant Bread Making." 

HELLENIC BUREAU 

626 Tribune Building, New York 

24 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



Sunshine for Rainy Days' 



r^ 



K 



\. 



KOCH 
TDTS 



OH, THE JOYS 

OF MAKING TOYS, 

KOCH PAPER TOYS 



KDCH 
TOYS 



Here 's the best thing yet. Furniture of all 
kinds that you make out of paper. Just the 
size for your doll house — only ihts paper is a 
very strong kind and the toys will last very long. 

There are the cutest little tables and chairs 
and sofas and couches, and yes! — a Grand 
father's Clock, and, oh ! look here — a real 
little rocking-chair — and bureaus and 
tabourettes and, oh! — you '11 have to buy 
a set to find out all the things there really are. 

There are three sets that come, so you '11 
have a complete outfit for the doll's house — 
and lots and lots of fun making 'em. 

Trot right around now, dears, to your toy man 
and ask him for Koch Paper Toys. If he has n't 
them, well, write us and we *11 tell you where you 
can get 'em for 50c. a set and ten pieces of furni- 
ture to a set. 




KDCH 
TDYS 



STEPHEN O. URIE & CO. 

KOCH PAPER TOYS 
PHILADELPHIA, - PA. 



KOOI 
TOYS 




25 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




Since Christmas, l847» 

the year Rogers Brothers perfected the process of electro 

silver-plating, the "1847 ROGERS BROS." ware has proved 

one of the most popular of gifts. This is due 

not merely to the artistic patterns but 

because of the wonderful durability, 

proved during the past sixty 

years. 



I 



MERIDEN BRITANNIA CO., Meriden, Conn. 

(International Silver Co., Successor.) 

Meriden Silver Polish^ the^^ Silver Poli&h that Cleans.* 




MENNEN'S 

BORATED TALCUM 

TOILET POWDER 




' ' Baby's Best Friend " 

and Mamma's greatest comfort, Mennen's relieves and 

prevents Chapped Hands and Chafing. 

For your protection the genuine is put up in non=refill= 

able boxes — the "Box that Lox," with Mennen's face 

on top. Sold everywhere or by mail 25 cents. Sample free. 
Try Mennen's Violet (Borated) Talcum Toilet Powder — It 
has the scent of Fresh-cut Parma Violets. Sainple Free, 

GKRHTVRD MENNEN CO., NewarK. N.J. 

Mennen's Sen Vang Toilet Powder, Oriental Odor f No 
Mennen's Borated Skin Soap (blue wrapper) ( Samples 

Specially prepared for the nursery. Sold only at Stores. 








The most complete and comprehensive 
Library on Sports o( all kinds in the world. 
Send for complete list of books. 

A few popnlar books for beginners: — 
No. 300— How to Play Foot Ball. 
No. 304— How to Play Ice Hockey. 
No. 193— How to Play Basket Ball. 
No. 246 — Athletic Training for Schoolboys. 
No. 209— How to Become a Skater. 
No 236— How to Wrestle. 
No. 166 — How to Swing Indian Clubs. 
No. 191— How to Punch the Bag. 
No. 124 — How to Become a Gymnast. 
No. 162— How to Box. 

Price ID cents each. 

Spalding's Athletic Goods Catalogue con- 
tains pictures and prices of implements 
for every athletic sport. Send for a copy. 

A. G. SPALDING & BROS. 

124-128 Nassau Street, New York City 

147-149 Wabash Avenue, Chicago, III. 

156-158 Geary Street, San Francisco, Cal. 



BOTH TEACHERS and PARENTS 

Should be interested in having the best inspiration to good citizen- 
ship offered to the young of our day. Send for a description of* 

FORMAN'S ADVANCED CIVICS 

and see what everybody says about this remarkable book. A dopted 
exclusively for Chicago and in hundreds of schools and cities. 

Z\ie Centurg Co.t lanlon Square, TRew jorft 



25 CENTS 



EACH 
POSTPAID 



LIST OF TOOLS 

Butcher's Cleaver, ebony and coral handle 

Butcher's Steel, ivory and ebony handle 

Telephone 

Mason's Trowel, ebony handle 

Monkey 'Wrench, ebony or ivory handle 

Barber's Razor, metal 

Ball Pein Machinist's Hammer, metal handle 

Hand Saw, metal handle 

Claw Hammer, metal handle 




PERFECT MODELS 

of large tools, small enough to 
be used as watch charms. 
Make suitable favors for 
dance or card party. 

MINIATURE NOVELTY CO., 
130 East 20th Street, New York 



26 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




OROTirDAIMZ 

IBBON8 

Exquisite Gifts 
fo r GM:\s 



m^'i 



Sash Set 
Price $2.^0 




Hair Bow Set 
Price $3.^0 



Merry Christmas to You, St. Nicholas Girls 

Would n't you like to have one of my sash sets, with one sash and 
two matched hair ribbons, or a hair bow set of six assorted bows, 
for a Christmas present ? 

'Course you would — everybody just thinks ni)^ ribbons are lovely. 
Really, girls, you can't find a nicer present to give or receive. 



'4\ 



^! 



^ 



The pretty, flat boxes, so convenient for mailintj, are a fitting accompani- 
ment to the beauty of the giit and the wonderful quality of the ribbons. 

Dorothy Dainty Ribbons are specially made for hair bows and sashes, 
that 's why they are always so fascinatingly pert and smartly stylish. No 
matter how often they are tied their crisp freshness remains the same. The 
knots never slip because they are held by the natural "cling" of pure silk, 
guaranteed by the famous mark 



S6K 



The recognized standard of ribbon perfection. 

Your Dealer Has Them 

In sash sets, hair bow sets or single ribbons in dainty individual envelopes. 
Tie sure that Dorothy Dainty's picture is on each package and that the 
S & K Quality mark is on the end of each ribbon. Send for beaittifnl rib- 
bo?i book free. Address 



Jjc/iffVaniJaer^ 



Care of 'sWCXW & KAUFMANN, 85 Prince St., New York 



I— A RIBBON SET FOR $2.50— 

A special Christmas opportunity for those who 
live where Dorothy Dainty Ribbons are not 
obtainable. 

The Sets are as illustrated above. Sash Set 
contains one floral brocade sash cj^' yds. long, 
6-)<i in. wide and two 40 in. hair bows to match. 
Hair Bow Set contains six hair bows 40 in. long, 
three different colors and three different designs 
(Lily of the Valley, Rosebud, etc) in each box. 
Whites, pinks and blues of pure silk, extra 
quality. 

If you do not live where you can buy at 
some ribbon counter you need fear no disappoint- 
ment in ordering this set. 

Send us your order now with $2.50. If you 
prefer, and wi.l send your card with order, we will 
inclose same in package and forward the ribbons 
prepaid to any address you name, tied seasonably 
with dainty Christmas ribbons and marked "'io 
be opened on Christmas." 

What better way could you have of sending 
a Christmas remembrance V 



?T 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



FIVE YEARS OLD 




Issued every week co-opera- 
tively and simultaneously as 
a part of the Sunday editions 
of 



C The first number of the Associated Sunday 
Magazines appeared December 6, 1903. Four 
newspapers issued it as a part of their Sun- 
day editions. It had a circulation of 467,500. 

C The first year it printed 58,877 lines of ad- 
vertising at an average rate of $1.29 a line. 

C Today the circulation of the Associated 
Sunday Magazines* is more than a million copies 
a week, and is issued by nine different news- 
papers. In this fiscal year, ending November 
29, 1908, it will have published 158,335 lines 
of advertising at $3.00 a line. 

C During this trying year of 1908, which has 
caused nearly every commercial activity to 
suffer, the advertising of the Associated Sun- 
day Magazines showed a net gain of 15% 
over 1907. 

C Advertisements of liquor, ''get rich quick" 
schemes, alleged ''cure alls," frauds, and 
shams (the easiest of all advertising to secure) 
are not taken in its columns. 

C The reason for this gain, — the stride from 
$76,143.41 to $475,000 worth of advertising in 
four years ? 

C Because the advertiser can cover the north- 
ern, eastern, central, and middle western states 
better and for less cost by using space in the 
Associated Sunday Magazines than in any 
other magazine in the country. 

C One million circulation — $3.00 a line. 

" The Story of the Associated Sunday 
Magazines " will be mailed on request. 



Chicago Record-Herald 
St. Louis Republic 
Philadelphia Press 
Pittsburgh Post 
New-York Tribune 
Boston Post 
Washington Star 
Minneapolis Journal 
Rocky Mountain News 
and Denver Times 



THE 

ASSOCIATED 
SUNDAY 
MAGAZINES 
1 Madison Avenue 
NEW YORK 

309 Record-Herald Bldg. 
CHICAGO 



28 



Sr. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



IT WORKS LIKE A KODAK 




For 
Pictures 
3V4 X 4V4 
Inches, 
Price^ 
$4.00. 



The No. 3 Brownie 

A new Camera in the Brownie Series. So simple 
that the children can make good pictures with it, 
so efficient as to satisfy the grown people. 

The No. 3 Brownie loads in daylight with Kodak film cartridges for two, four, six or 
twelve exposures as desired. It has a fixed focus, and is therefore always ready — no stopping 
to adjust the focusing device when you want to make a picture. The lens is a fine quality 
meniscus achromatic, the shutter is always set and is adapted for both snap shots and time 
exposures. There are three "stops," for regulating the amount of light admitted by the 
lens, and there are two view finders, one for vertical and one for horizontal pictures. There 
are two tripod sockets. The cameras are well made in every particular, and each one is 
carefully tested. Covered with a fine quality imitation grain leather with nickel fittings, the 
No. 3 Brownies are both handsome and serviceable. 

With a Kodak or Brownie there's no 
dark-room in any part of the work. 

EASTMAN KODAK COMPANY, 



Catalog free at the dealers 
or by mail. 



ROCHESTER, N. Y., The Kodak City. 



29 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



Lots of Boys and Girls 

can write good stories. I knew a young girl once who 
could do good work with her pen ; in fact, she had had 
three or four stories published. 

I shall never forget, when I met her one day, how 
she came to me with her eyes shining and said, " My 
father has just given me a beautiful Christmas present, a 
REMINGTON TYPEWRITER — think of it, a hundred 
dollar typewriter!" That was the limit! A fond father 
could do no more for an aspiring daughter. 




Remington Typewriter — New Model lo 



3° 



JANUARY, 1909 



ST NICHOLAS 

ILLUSTRATED AVAGAZINE 

FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 




® FREDERICK WARNE & CO • BEDFORD ST- STRAND- LONDON ® 

THE- CENTURY-CO- UNION -SQUARE -NEW- YORK 

FRANK H. SCOTT, PRESIDENT . WILLIAM W. ELLSWORTH, SECRETARY UNION SOUARE, NEW YORK 

Copyright, 1908, by The Century Co,] (Trade-Mark Regrstered Feb. 6, 1907,) [Entered at N. Y. Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter 



C wift & Company's 

^^ pay roll contains the names of over 
twenty-four thousand persons. You will 
find some of these employes in nearly 
every city and town in the United States, 
and in many cities in foreign countries. 

It is our belief that the great bulk of 
this army of men are regular consumers 
of the Swift products. They help to 
prepare, to cure, to pack and to market 
our varied products, and they know — 
better than any other person — how good, 
clean and wholesome these products are. 

When you meet a Sw^ift & Company 
employe, ask his opinion of any of the 
specialties here mentioned: 

Swift's Premium Hams and Bacon 
Swift's Premium Chickens Swift's Premium Lard 

Swift's Silver Leaf Lard 
Swift's Beef Extract Swift's Jersey Butterine 

Swift's Crown Princess Toilet Soap 

Swift's Pride Soap Wool Soap 

Swift's Pride Washing Powder 

Swift & Company, U. S. A. 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




Then why not make some other 
boy's or girl's Christmas a mer- 
rier one by the gift of a year's 
subscription ? 



It comes twelve times a year 
A Christmas every month 



Three dollars for a year's subscription 
and a prettily printed certificate to be 
hung upon the tree. Remit $3.00 to 
The Century Co., 

Union Square, New York 




Jan. 1909 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



A New Brownie Book 

IN COLOR 




BROWNIE CLOWN OF BROWNIETOWN 

Verses and Pictures in color by Palmer Cox 

Colored cover, 6^A X 9 inches. $1.00 

A Guide to Parents in 
Selecting Books for the 
Children's Christmas. 



DvJwiVO yir the Booklov7er.A 
C5«!iy6rTri«fel tiaJx^QoodGhUS 

THECENTURyCQ-- 

Union SquMT O Ngwy ofk City 




We will send to any address on request a copy of our new 
pamphlet "Books to Buy," with a charming cover in 
colors and marginal pictures on every page by John 
Wolcott Adams. It contains 

*'A Classified List of 
Books for Young Folks" 

arranged under ages of children for which they are suita- 
ble and whether for boys or girls. Most of the books 
named have been recommended by educators and are in 
lists chosen by boards of education for school libraries. 



A. postal card 
will bring it. 



THE CENTURY GO. 

Union Square, New York 



[The entire contents of this Magazine are covered by the genera! copyright, and articles must not be reprinted without special permission.] 

CONTENTS OF ST. NICHOLAS FOR JANUARY, 1909. 

Frontispiece. " Glad to See You, My Boy!" Drawn by Reginald Birch Page 

Illustration for "The Time Shop." 

The Time Shop. Story John Kendrlck Bangs 195 

Illustrated by Reginald Birch. 

The Lesson Learned. Story Kathryn Jarboe 202 

Illustrated by E. F. Betts. 

The Elves' Calendar — January. Verse s. Virginia Levis 205 

Illustrated by Albertine Randall Wheelan. 

A Son of the Desert. Serial Story Bradley Gllman 205 

Illustrated by Thornton Oakley. 

Peterkin Paul. Verse Clara Odell Lyon 213 

Illustrated by R. Birch. 

The Lass of t.he Silver Sword. Serial Story Mary Constance Dubois 213 

Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. 

When I Grow Up. Verse W. W, Denslow . 

The Clown 221 

The Knight 225 

Illustrated by the Author. 

Captain Chub. Serial Story Ralph Henry Barbour 229 

Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. 

Father Time and His Children. Play Marguerite Merlngton 236 

Illustrated by A. B. Blashfield. 

" Here They Come in the Sleigh ! " Picture. Drawn by G. p. Hosklns 241 

The Spring Cleaning (concluded). Story Frances Hodgson Burnett 242 

Illustrated by H. Cady. 

An Afternoon Call. Picture. Drawn by Florence E. Storer 248 

What We Can, Sketch. Rebecca Harding Davis 249 

Decoration by W. J. Scott. 

St. Nicholas Cooking Club. Verse Charlotte Brewster Jordan 

Christmas Sweets 250 

Decorations by W. J. Scott. 

The Happychaps. Verses Carolyn Wells 252 

Illustrated by Harrison Cady. 

Vanity. Verse. Illustrated by Culmer Barnes 257 

Historic Boyhoods . Rupert Sargent Holland 

VI. Charles Dickens 258 

Illustrated by W. J. Scott. 

Winter, Verse Alden Arthur Knlpe 260 

Illustrated by Emilie Benson Knipe. 

For Very Little Folk, 

The New Year's Gift, Story Jessie Wright Whitcomb 262 

Illustrated by Margaret Ely Webb. 

A Funny Family, Verse By j. c. Pratt 265 

Illustrated by the Author. 

Nature and Science for Young Folks 266 

Illustrated. 

The St, Nicholas League. Awards of Prizes for Stories, Poems, 

Drawings, and Photographs 274 

Illustrated. V 

The Letter-Box 286 

The Riddle-Box 267 

Hie Century Co. and its editors receive tnanuscripts and art material^ submitted /or publica- 
tion^ only on the understanding that they shall not be responsible J^or loss or injury thereto 
•while in their possession or in transit. Copies of fnanuscripts should be retained by the authors. 

Subscription price, ftS.OO a year; sin<<rle number, 35 cents. The half-yearly parts of ST. NICHOLAS end with the 
October and April numbers respectively, and the red cloth covers are ready with the issue of these numbers ; price 50 cents, by mail, post- 
paid; the two covers for the complete volume, $i.oo. We bind and furnish covers for 75 cents per part, or $1.50 for the complete 
volume. In sending the numbers to us, they should be distinctly marked with owner's name, and 54 cents (27 cents per part) should 
be included in remittance, to cover postage on the volume if it is to be returned by mail. Bound volumes are not exchanged for numbers. 

Persons ordering a change in the direction of Magazines must give both the old a.r\d. the new address in full. No change can be 
made after the 5th of any month in the address of the Magazine for the following month. PUBLISHED MONTH L Y. 

FRANK H. SCOTT, President. ww%-w^-^ M««-r.^-r*«%««- ^^ •r-r . ^ •.« **««... 

WILLIAM W.ELLSWORTH. Secretary. THE CENTURY CO., Umoii S^uaie, Ncw York, N.Y. 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



1Hew Cbdetmas Boohs for (Bitls anb Boi^s 

Ttae First Brownie Book in Color 

BROWNIE CLOWN OF BROWNIETOWN 

Pictures in color and verses by Palmer Cox 

Colored cover, 6^xg inches. $I.OO. 

A new " Two Years Before tbe Mast " 

THREE YEARS BEHIND THE GUNS 

The sub-title is " The True Chronicles of a ' Diddy-box.' " 

It is the story of a boy who ran away and enlisted just in time to cross the Pacific Ocean 
in the Olympia and share in the Battle of Manila Bay on the flagship with Dewey. The 
book is highly recommended by the Admiral himself and by other distinguished naval 
officers. A capital book for a boy's Christmas — for any one's, in fact. 

Illustrated by Jorgensen and from photographs. $1.50. 



By ttae Auttaor of 
"Ttae Crimson Sweater 

HARRY'S 
ISLAND 

Ralph Henry Barbour's new book, 
just the kind of a story that boys 
like. All about a camping party 
and the fun they had. Beautifully 
illustrated by Relyea. $1.50. 



THE 
HAPPYCHAPS 

Verses bj Caroljn TVells 
Pictures by Harrison Cadj 

A delightful book for little chil- 
dren telling of a new kind of 
Brownie. $1.50. 




By ttae Auttaor of 
Little Lord Fauntleroy" 

THE SPRING 
CLEANING 

A new "Queen Silver-Bell" story 
by Mrs. Frances Hodgson Bur- 
nett. Whimsical, fascinating, and 
of interest to young and old. Illus- 
trated in color by Harrison Cady. 
$.60. 



FRITZI 



By 



I 
'^^^ Agnes mcCleliand Danlton 

with charming illustrations by 
Florence E. Stoker. A sweet 
and tender story for girls, told with 
sympathy and skill. The book 
for a girl's Christmas. $1.50. 



FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS I HAVE KNOWN 

By Major-General O. O. HOWARD 

Here the last living division commander of the Civil War tells of his interesting experi- 
ences with different Indian braves. General Howard has had more to do with Indian 
leaders than any other man in either civil or military life. A book of enduring value. 
Illnstrated by Varian and from photographs. $1.50. 

BOUND VOLUMES OF ST. NICHOLAS 

Many people buy these bound volumes at the end of the year, instead of subscribing to 

the monthly numbers of " the best of children's magazines." Such a treasure house of < 

literature and art for children can be had in no other form. 

I71 two parts, a thousand pages, a thousand pictures. $4.00. 

The beautifully illustrated pamphlet, "Books to Buv," which we send free on request, contains "A 
Classified List of Books for Young Folks, " telling whether the books are for boys or girls and for what age. 
Invaluable at Christmas. 

^bc Century Q.o. 
xanfon Square IWew l^orft 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



GREAT BOOKS FOR YOUNG FOLKS 

Standard Books published by The Ce?itury Co. 
Having a great yearly sale. Should be in every ChiW s Library 

Rudyard Kipling's Famous Books 



The Jungle Book 

With illustrations by W. H. Drake and others. 
Containing "Mowgli's Brothers," "Rikki-Tikki- 
Tavi," "Toomai of the Elephants," and others. 
303 pp. Price, 5l-50- 



The Second Jungle Book 

Decorations by J. Lockwood Kipling. Contains 
the stories "How Fear Came," "Letting in the 
Jungle," "The King's Ankus," etc. 324 pages. 
Price, J51.50. 



Captains Courageous' 



It tells of a rich man's son who fell overboard from an ocean steamer and was picked up by a fishing dory off 
the Grand Banks. How the experience with the hardy fishermen made a man of him is something worth 
reading. Every boy should own this book. Twenty illustrations by Taber. 323 pages. Price, ^1.50. 



Mary Mapes Dodge's 
** Donald and Dorothy ** 

The famous author of "Hans Brinker : or the 
Silver Skates" has here written a story of boy and 
girl life which has become a children's classic and 
which is put into thousands of new libraries every 
season. Illustrated. 355 pages. Price, ^1.50. 



Mrs. C. V. Jamison's 
** Lady Jane " 

Nearly twenty years ago this story was published 
serially in St. Nicholas, and since its issue in book 
form it has had a constant sale. It is a delightful 
story of girl life in Louisiana. Illustrations by Birch. 
233 pp. Price, ^1.50. 



Ernest Thompson Seton's '* Biography of a Grizzly** 

No book ever written about animals has been more popular than this. It seems as if it were the real story 
of a real grizzly. Issued in beautiful form with illustrations and decorations by the artist-author. Printed 
in red and black on tinted paper. 167 pages. ;^i.50. 



The Pilgrim's Progress 

John Bunyan's great classic issued in very beautiful 
form with 120 designs done by the brothers Rhead 
and with an introduction by the Rev. H. R. Haweis. 
The book is a large handsome quarto with every 
page illuminated. 184 pages. Price, ^1.50. 

The Bible for Young People 

Making the Bible more attractive to boys and girls. The verse numbering is omitted, the chapters as given in 
the Bible are disregarded, and each chapter is complete in itself. Genealogies and such parts of the book as are 
usually omitted by careful parents when reading aloud to their children are not included. Printed in large type. 
475 pages. Illustrated with beautiful engravings of paintings by the old masters. New edition. Price, ^1.50. 



Boys* Life of 
Abraham Lincoln 

Based on the standard life of Lincoln written by 
Messrs. Nicolay and Hay and adapted to the reading 
of young folks by Miss Helen Nicolay. With 35 
illustrations. 307 pages. Price, ^1.50. 



Hero Tales 



Mr. Roosevelt's book, written with Henry 
Cabot Lodge, and telling the story of great 
deeds in American history. Illustrated. 
Price, ;?i.5o. 



Master Skylark 

John Bennett's fine story of the times of Shakspere, 
the great dramatist and Queen Elizabeth being char- 
acters in the book. Forty pictures by Birch. 
Price, ^1.50. 

The Century Book for Young Americans 

The Story of the Government, showing how a party of boys and girls found out all about how it is con- 
ducted. One of a series of patriotic books by Eldridge S. Brooks. 

Some Strange Corners of Our Country 

By Charles F. Lummis, describing;- some out-of-the-way wonders of the United States. With many pic- 
tures. Price, ^1.50. 

Sold by booksellers e-veryivhere or sent, post-paid, on receipt of price by the publishers. 



THE CENTURY CO. union square NEW YORK 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



Of all the books to buy for a boy's or 
girl's book shelf nothing can surpass 

Rudyard Kipling's 

famous 




JUNGLE 
BOOKS 



They are classic. No child's edu- 
cation is complete without them. Two books, "The Jungle 
Book" and "The Second Jungle Book." 

Each over 300 pages, cloth, illustrated. $1.50 

Young people as well as grown-ups 
will be glad to have for Christmas 

THE RED CITY 

Dr. S. Weir Mitchell's 

New Historical Novel 
of Philadelphia in President Washington's Time 



It is a story of the romantic adventures of a young 
Huguenot emigre, who flees to Philadelphia, where he falls 
in love with a pretty young Quakeress, meets Jefferson, 
Hamilton, Washington himself ; and plays a brave part in the 
stirring scenes of a stirring time. 

"It would be difficult to find a more delightful 
American Historical Novel." 

Spirited pictures. $1.50 



THEREOaTY 

A Hlstoricid Novel of the 
S«coDd Administration of 

President Washlndton 
By S. WEIR MITCHELL 

Autlior of KughW^oe 




XTbe Century Co. 



xanion Square 



uaew 33orft 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



No family should miss having 

THE CENTURY MAGAZINE 

during the 

LINCOLN CENTENNIAL YEAR 

From its beginning The Century Magazine has been the 
medium of the most important information that has been given 
to the world concerning the career of the great President. In 
The Century was first pubhshed the Nicolay and Hay stan- 
dard life of Lincoln, Noah Brooks's "Washington in Lincoln's 
Time," and, more recently, Frederick Trevor Hill's " Lincoln 
the Lawyer," and David Homer Bates's " Lincoln in the Tele- 
graph Office." Besides these nearly one hundred separate 
articles on Lincoln have appeared in The Century, with hun- 
dreds of illustrations and portraits. ^ The Century in 1909 will 
publish a number of new contributions to Lincoln records, 
which will present unfamiliar and interesting phases of his life 
and character and will include unpublished documents from 
Lincoln's own pen and from that of one of his private secreta- 
ries. Frederick Trevor Hill has written on "The Lincoln-Douglas Debates" for the 
November number; and articles on "Lincoln as a Boy Knew Him," "Lincoln as Peace 
Negotiator," " Lincoln and the Theater," etc., etc., will follow in early numbers. 




Saint-Gaudens 

greatest of modern sculptors, 
who died recently, left an auto- 
biography — a wonderful human 
document — racy with anecdotes 
and descriptions. The Century 
will print it. 

Queen Victoria 

will be pictured in letters written 
by the wife of the American 
Minister when the Queen came 
to the throne. 

Paderewski 

has given an interesting interview 
to The Century, his views on 
great composers and their music. 
Gabrilowitsch and Kneisel will 
contribute interviews. 

Animal Psychology 

is the subject of papers by Pro- 
fessor Yerkes of Harvard, re- 
cording experiments in ascertain- 
ing what is in the minds of dumb 
creatures. 



OTHER FEATURES 

Romantic Germany 

is the subject of a delightful 
series of papers by Robert Haven 
Schauffler, illustrated by the best 
of the younger German painters. 

Stories 

by Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, Thomas 
Nelson Page, Kate Douglas 
Wiggin, Jack London, Edith 
Wharton, Charles D. Stewart, 
John Corbin, Owen Johnson, Ruth 
McEnery Stuart, and many others. 

Grover Cleveland 

— the real Grover Cleveland, will 
be described in The Century in 
1909 by the men who knew him 
best. 

Alice Hegan Rice 
who wrote " Mrs. Wiggs of the 
Cabbage Patch," will contribute 
a brilliant serial novel to The 
Century. Pathos and humor 
are exquisitely blended in this 
new story, " Mr. 0pp." 



Helen Keller 

is writing for The Century. 
Don't miss her article, "My 
Dreams." 

Thompson Seton 

has written a remarkable fox 
story (showing the monogamy of 
the better-class fox) which The 
Century will print. 

Andrew Carnegie 

is writing for The Century. 
Read his remarkable article on 
the Tariff and learn what he 
knows about tariflfs. 

The Art in The Century 

is unquestionably the best in any 
magazine. Famous pictures by 
American artists, reproduced in 
full color, are coming in 1909 — 
each one worth cutting out. 
Timothy Cole's masterpieces of 
French art will be continued. 
Joseph Pennell and Boutet de 
Monvel are working for The 
Century. 



N'ew subscribers should begin with the great Christinas Number. $^.00 a year. 

lEbe Centura Co., mnion Square, IRew J^orft 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




^L imiied 




i ^ ;• 



'nfah/or ma. riaany'ltn e. 




lor /ir^iclass J ul Iman 
<fens! only 



passen^er^i om 



m 



lour /amily Travels 
pleasanr Compart7 

In vali/ornia every d 
IS a June daj. 



SaniaFe 

^ wJ 



ay; 



"Be lujie liooUeii oAram and ^np on requesi 

__gW euinpjiient ikis season 
^.WJ-Black.PassTrafficM^r.A-n^SFRySystera 

11 j4 'S Raik'ayE^cW^e.CKicac^o. 






35 




% imm&id,tmmiiM 



GLAD TO SEK YOU, MY BOY!' SAID PROCRASTINATION, HANDING 
HIM ANOTHER CARD." (SEE PAGE 200.) 



ST. NICHOLAS 



Vol. XXXVI 



JANUARY, 1909 



No. 3 





John K^ndn'ck JJangj 



Of course it was an ex- 
traordinary thing for a 
clock to do, especially a 
parlor clock, which one 
would expect to be par- 
ticularly dignified and 
well-behaved, but there 
was no denying the fact 
that the Clock did it. 
With his own eyes Bobby 
saw it wink, and beckon 
to him with its hands. To 
be sure, he had never 
noticed before that the 
Clock had eyes, or that it 
had any fingers on its 
hands to beckon with, but 
the thing happened in 
spite of all that, and as 
a result Bobby became 
curious. He was stretched 
along the rug in front 



silvery tone, just like a bell, in fact. "You did n't 
think I was beckoning to the piano, did you?" 

"I did n't know," said Bobby. 

"Not that I would n't like to have the piano 
come over and call upon me some day," the Clock 
went on, "which I most certainly would, consid- 
ering him, as I do, the most polished four-footed 



rug m 
of the great open fireplace, where he had been 
drowsily gazing at the blazing log for a half hour 
or more, and looking curiously up at the Clock's 
now smiling face, he whispered to it. 

"Are you beckoning to me ?" he asked, rising 
up on his hands and knees. 

"Of course I am," replied the Clock in a soft. 

Copyright, igoS, by The Centu: 
195 




" ' arp: you beckoning to me?' he asked." 

creature I have ever seen, and all of his family 
have been either grand, square, or upright, and 
if properly handled, full of sweet music. Fact 

RY Co, All rights reserved. 



196 



THE TIME SHOP 



[Jan., 



is, Bobby, I 'd rather have a piano playing about 
me than a kitten or a puppy dog, as long as it 
did n't jump into my lap. It would be awkward 
to have a piano get frisky and jump into your 
lap, now, would n't it?" 

Bobby had to confess that it would ; "but what 
did you want with me ?" he asked, now that the 
piano was disposed of. 

"Well," replied the Clock, "I am beginning to 
feel a trifle run down, Bobby, and I thought I 'd 
go over to the shop, and get in a little more time 
to keep me going. Christmas is coming along, 
and everybody is so impatient for its arrival that 
I don't want to slow down at this season of the 
year, and have all the children blame me because 
it is so long on the way." 

"What shop are you going to ?" asked Bobby, 
interested at once, for he was very fond of shops 
and shopping. 

"Why, the Time Shop, of course," said the 
Clock. "It 's a shop that my father keeps, and 
we clocks have to get our supply of time from 
him, you know, or we could n't keep on going. 
If he did n't give it to us, why, we could n't give 
it to you. It is n't right to give away what you 
have n't got." 

"I don't think I understand," said Bobby, with 
a puzzled look on his face. "What is a Time 
Shop, and what do they sell there?" 

"Oh, anything from a bunch of bananas or a 
barrel of sawdust up to an automobile," returned 
the Clock. "Really, I could n't tell you what 
they don't sell there if you were to ask me. I 
know of a fellow who went in there once to buy 
a great name for himself, and the floor-walker 
sent him up to the third floor, where they had 
fame, and prosperity, and greatness for sale, and 
ready to give to anybody who was willing and 
able to pay for them, and he chose happiness 
instead, not because it was less expensive than 
the others, but because it was more worth hav- 
ing. V/hat they 've got in the Time Shop de- 
pends entirely upon what you want. If they 
have n't got it in stock, they will take your order 
for it, and will send it to you, but always C.O.D., 
which means you must pay when you receive the 
goods. Sometimes you can buy fame on the in- 
stalment plan, but that is only in special cases. 
As a rule, there is no charging things in the 
Time Shop. You 've got to pay for what you 
get, and it is up to you to see that the quality is 
good. Did you ever hear of a man named George 
Washington ?" 

"Hoh !" cried Bobby, with a scornful grin. 
"Did I ever hear of George Washington ! What 
a question ! Was there anybody ever who has n't 
heard of George Washington ?" 



"Well, yes," said the Clock. "There was 
Julius Caesar. He was a pretty brainy sort of a 
chap, and he never heard of him. And old 
Father Adam never heard of him, and Mr. 
Methuselah never heard of him, and I rather 
guess that Christopher Columbus, who was very 
much interested in American history, never 
heard of him." 

"All right, Clocky," said Bobby, with a smile. 
"Go on. What about George Washington ?" 

"He got all that he ever won at the Time Shop ; 
a regular customer, he was," said the Clock; 
"and he paid for what he got with the best years 
of his life, man or boy. He rarely wasted a 
minute. Now I thought that having nothing to 
do for a little while but look at those flames try- 
ing to learn to dance, you might like to go over 
with me and visit the old shop. They '11 all be 
glad to see you and maybe you can spend a little 
time there whilst I am laying in a fresh supply 
to keep me on the move.'' 

"I 'd love to go," said Bobby, starting up 
eagerly. 

"Very well, then," returned the Clock. "Close 
your eyes, count seventeen backward, then open 
your eyes again, and you '11 see what you will see." 

Bobby's eyes shut ; I was almost going to say 
with a snap. He counted from seventeen back 
to one with a rapidity that would have surprised 
even his school-teacher, opened his eyes again 
and looked around, and what he saw— well, that 
was more extraordinary than ever ! Instead of 
standing on the parlor rug before the fireplace, 
he found himself in the broad aisle of the ground 
floor of a huge department store, infinitely larger 
than any store he had ever seen in his life before, 
and oh, dear me, how dreadfully crowded it was ! 
The crowd of Christmas shoppers that Bobby 
remembered to have seen last year when he had 
gone out to buy a lead-pencil to put into his 
father's stocking was as nothing to that which 
thronged this wonderful place. Ah me, how 
dreadfully hurried some of the poor shoppers 
appeared to be, and how wistfully some of them 
gazed at the fine bargains to be seen on the 
counters and shelves, which either because they 
had not saved it. or had wasted it, they had not 
time to buy ! 

"Well, young gentleman," said a kindly floor- 
walker, pausing in his majestic march up and 
down the aisle, as the Clock, bidding Bobby to 
use his time well, made off to the supply shop, 
"what can we do for you to-day?" 

"Nothing that I know of, thank you, sir," said 
Bobby; "I have just come in to look around." 

"Ah!" said the floor-walker with a look of 
disappointment on his face. "I 'm afraid I shall 



igop.] 



THE TIME SHOP 



197 



have to take you to the Waste-Time Bureau, 
where they will find out what you want without 
undue loss of precious moments. I should think, 
however, that a nice-looking boy like you would 
be able to decide what he really wanted and go 
directly to the proper department and get it." 

"Got any bicycles?" asked Bobby, seizing upon 
the first thing that entered his mind. 

"Fine ones — best there are," smiled the pleas- 
ant floor-walker, very much relieved to find that 
Bobby did not need to be taken to the bureau. 
"Step this way, please. Mr. Promptness, will 
you be so good as to show this young gentleman 
our line of bicycles?" 

Then turning to Bobby, he added: "You look 
like a rather nice, young gentleman, my boy. 
Perhaps never having been here before, you do 
not know our ways, and have not provided your- 
self with anything to spend. To encourage busi- 
ness we see that new comers have a chance to 
avail themselves of the opportunities of the shop, 
so here are a few time-checks with which you 
can buy what you want." 

The kindly floor-walker handed Bobby twenty 
round golden checks, twenty silver checks, and 
twenty copper ones. Each check was about the 
size of a five-cent piece, and all were as bright 
and fresh as if they had just been minted. 

"What are these?" asked Bobby, as he jingled 
the coins in his hand. 

"The golden checks, my boy, are days," said 
the floor-walker. "The silver ones are hours, 
and the coppers are minutes. I hope you will 
use them wisely, and find your visit to our shop 
so profitable that you will become a regular cus- 
tomer." 

With this and with a pleasant bow the floor- 
walker moved along to direct a gray-haired old 
gentleman with a great store of years in his pos- 
session to the place where he could make his 
last payment on a stock of wisdom which he 
had been buying, and Bobby was left with Mr. 
Wiggins, the salesman, who immediately showed 
him all the bicycles they had in stock. 

"This is a pretty good wheel for a boy of 
your age," said Mr. Promptness, pulling out a 
bright-looking little machine that was so splen- 
didly under control that when he gave it a push 
it ran smoothly along the top of the mahogany 
counter, pirouetted a couple of times on its hind 
wheels, and then gracefully turning rolled back 
to Mr. Promptness again. 

"How much is that?" asked Bobby, without 
much hope, however, of ever being able to buy it. 

"Sixteen hours and forty-five minutes," said 
Mr. Promptness, looking at the price-tag, and 
reading off the figures. "It used to be a twenty- 



five-hour wheel, but we have marked everything 
down this season. Everybody is so rushed these 
days that very few people have any spare time to 
spend, and we want to get rid of our stock." 

"What do you mean by sixteen hours and 
forty-five minutes?" asked Bobby. "How much 
is that in dollars?" 

Mr. Promptness smiled more broadly than 
ever at the boy's question. 

"We don't do business in dollars here, my lad," 
said he. "This is a Time Shop, and what you 
buy you buy with time : days, hours, minutes, 
and seconds." 

"Got anything that costs as much as a year?" 
asked Bobby. 

"We have things that cost a lifetime, my boy," 
said the salesman; "but those things, our rarest 
and richest treasures, we keep up-stairs." 

"I should think that you would rather do busi- 
ness for money," said Bobby. 

"Nay, nay, my son," said Mr. Promptness. 
"Time is a far better possession than money, and 
it often happens that it will buy things that 
money could n't possibly purchase." 

"Then I must be rich," said Bobby. 
The salesman looked at the little fellow gravely. 

"Rich?" he said. 

"Yes," said Bobby, delightedly. "I 've got no 
end of time. Seems to me sometimes that I 've 
got all the time there is." 

"Well," said Mr. Promptness, "you must re- 
member that its value depends entirely upon how 
you use it. Time thrown away or wasted is of 
no value at all. Past time or future time are of 
little value compared to present time, so when 
you say that you are rich you may be misleading 
yourself. What do you do with yours?" 

"Why— anything I happen to want to do," said 
Bobby. ^ 

"And where do you get your clothes, your 
bread and butter, and your playthings ?" asked 
the salesman. 

"Oh, my father gets all those things for me," 
returned Bobby. 

"Well, he has to pay for them," said Mr. 
Promptness, "and he has to pay for them in 
time, too, while you use yours for what ?" 

Bobby hung his head. 

"Do you spend it well ?" asked the salesman. 

"Sometimes," said Bobby, "and sometimes I 
just waste it," he went on. "You see, Mr. 
Promptness, I did n't know there was a Time 
Shop where you could buy such beautiful things 
with it, but now that I do know you will find me 
here oftener spending what I have on things 
worth having." 

"I hope so," said Mr. Promptness, patting 



198 



THE TIME SHOP 



[Jan.; 



Bobby affectionately on the shoulder. "How 
much have you got with you now?" 

"Only these," said Bobby, jingling his time- 
checks in his pocket. "Of course next week when 
my Christmas holidays begin I shall have a lot — 
three whole weeks— that 's twenty-one days, you 
know." 

"Well, you can only count on what you have 
in hand, but from the sounds in your pocket 
I fancy you can have the bicycle if you want it," 
said Mr. Promptness. 

"At the price I think I can," said Bobby, "and 
several other things besides." 

"How would you like this set of books about 
wild animals ?" asked Mr. Promptness. 



"Very good, sir," said Mr. Promptness, with a 
twinkling eye. "Now can you think of anything 
else?" 

"Well, yes," said Bobby, a sudden idea flashing 
across his mind. "There is one thing I want very 
much, Mr. Promptness, and I guess maybe per- 






V/%^ 



" THE UNWELCOME VISITOR WAS AT LAST THRUST 
INTO THE STREET." 

"How much?" said Bobby. 

"Two days and a half, or sixty hours," said 
Mr. Promptness, inspecting the price-tag. 

"Send them along with the rest," said Bobby. 
"How much is that electric railroad over there?" 

"That "s rather expensive," Mr. Promptness 
replied. "It will cost you two weeks, three days, 
ten minutes, and thirty seconds." 

"Humph," said Bobby. "I guess that 's a little 
too much for me. Got any marbles?" 

"Yes," laughed Mr. Promptness. "'We have 
china alleys, two for a minute, or plain miggles 
at ten for a second." 

"Put me down for two hours' worth of china 
alleys, and about a half an hour's worth of mig- 
gles," said Bobby. 



haps you can help me out. I 'd like to buy a Christ- 
mas present for my mother, if I can get a nice 
one with the time I 've got. I was afraid I 
could n't get her much of anything with what 
little money I had saved. But if I can pay for it 
in time, Mr. Promptness — why, what could n't I 
buy for her with those three whole weeks com- 
ing to me !" 

"About how much would you like to spend on 
it?" asked Mr. Promptness, with a soft light in 
his eye. 

"Oh, I 'd like to spend four or five years on it," 
said Bobby, "but, of course—" 

"That 's very nice of you," said the salesman, 
putting his hand gently on Bobby's head, and 
stroking his hair. "But I would n't be extrava- 
gant, and once in a while we have special bar- 
gains here for kiddies like you. Why, I have 
known boys to give their mothers presents 
bought at this shop that were worth years, and 
years, and years, but which have n't cost them 



igog.] 



THE TIME SHOP 



199 



more than two or three hours because they have 
made up the difference in love. With love you 
can buy the best treasures of this shop with a 
very little expenditure in time. Now what do 
you think of this for your mother?" 

Mr. Promptness reached up to a long shelf 
back of the counter and brought down a little 
card, framed in gold, and printed in beautiful 
colored letters, and illustrated with a lovely pic- 
ture that seemed to Bobby to be the prettiest 
thing he had ever seen. 

"This is a little thing that was written long 
ago," said Mr. Promptness, "by a man who spent 
much time in this shop buying things that were 
worth while, and in the end getting from our 
fame department a wonderful name which was 
not only a splendid possession for himself, but 
for the people among whom he lived. Thousands 
and thousands of people have been made happier, 
and wiser, by the way he spent his hours, and he 
is still mentioned among the great men of time. 
He was a fine, great-hearted fellow, and he put 
a tremendous lot of love into all that he did. 
His name was Thackeray. Can you read, 
Bobby?" 

"A little," said Bobby. 

"Then read this and tell me what you think 
of it," said Mr. Promptness. 

He handed Bobby the beautiful card, and the 
little fellow, taking it in his hand, read the sen- 
tence : MOTHER IS THE NAME OF GOD IN THE LIPS 
AND HEARTS OF LITTLE CHILDREN. 

"You see, my dear little boy," said the kindly 
salesman, "that is worth — oh, I don't know how 
many years, and your mother, I am sure, would 
rather know that that is what you think, and 
how you feel about her, than have you give her 
the finest jewels that we have to sell. And how 
much do you think we charge you for it ?" 

"Forty years !" gasped Bobby. 

"No," replied Mr. Promptness. "Five min- 
utes. Shall we put it aside for you ?" 

"Yes, indeed," cried Bobby, delighted to have 
so beautiful a Christmas gift for his mother. 

So Mr. Promptness put the little card aside 
with the bicycle, and the wild animal books, and 
the marbles, putting down the price of each of 
the things Bobby had purchased on his sales slip. 

They walked down the aisles of the great shop 
together, looking at the many things that time 
well expended would buy, and Bobby paused for 
a moment and spent two minutes on a glass of 
soda water, and purchased a quarter of an hour's 
worth of peanuts to give to Mr. Promptness. They 
came soon to a number of large rooms at one 
end of the shop, and in one of these Bobby saw 
quite a gathering of youngsters somewhat older 



than himself, who seemed to be very busy poring 
over huge books, and studying maps, and writing 
things down in little note-books, not one of them 
wasting even an instant. 

"These boys are buying an education with their 
time," said Mr. Promptness, as they looked in at 
the door. "For the most part they have n't any 
fathers and mothers to help them, so they come 
here and spend what they have on the things 
that we have in our library. It is an interesting 
fact that what is bought in this room can never 
be stolen from you, and it happens more often 
than not that when they have spent hundreds of 
hours in here they win more time to spend on 
the other things that we have on sale. But there 
are others, I am sorry to say, who stop on their 
way here in the morning and fritter their loose 
change away in the Shop of Idleness across the 
way— a minute here, and a half hour there, 
sometimes perhaps a whole hour will be squan- 
dered over there, and when they arrive here they 
have n't got enough left to buy anything." 

"What can you buy at the Shop of Idleness?" 
asked Bobby, going to the street door, and look- 
ing across the way at the shop in question, which 
seemed, indeed, to be doing a considerable busi- 
ness, if one could judge from the crowds within. 

"Oh, a little fun," said Mr. Promptness. "But 
not the real, genuine kind, my boy. It is a sort 
of imitation fun that looks hke the real thing, 
but it rings hollow when you test it, and on close 
inspection turns out to be nothing but frivolity." 

"And what is that great gilded affair further 
up the street?" asked Bobby, pointing to a place 
with an arched entrance gilded all over and shin- 
ing in the sunlight like a huge house of brass. 

"That is a cake shop," said Mr. Promptness, 
"and it is run by an old witch named Folly. When 
you first look at her you think she is young and 
beautiful, but when you come to know her better 
you realize that she is old, and wrinkled, and 
selfish. She gives you things and tells you that 
you need n't pay until to-morrow and this goes 
on until some day to-morrow comes, and you find 
she has not only used up all the good time you 
had, but that you owe her even more, and when 
you can't pay she pursues you with all sorts of 
trouble. That 's all anybody ever got at Folly's 
shop, Bobby — just trouble, trouble, trouble." 

"There seem to be a good many people there 
now," said Bobby, looking up the highway at 
Folly's gorgeous place. 

"Oh, yes," sighed Ad^r. Promptness. "A great 
many — poor things ! They don't know any bet- 
ter, and what is worse, they won't listen to those 
who do." 

"Who is that pleasant-looking gentleman out- 



200 



THE TIME SHOP 



[Jan., 



side the Shop of Idleness?" asked Bobby, as a 
man appeared there and began distributing his 
card amongst the throng. 

"He is the general manager of the Shop of 
Idleness," said the salesman. "As you say, he 
is a pleasant-looking fellow, but you must beware 
of him, Bobby. He 's not a good person to have 
around. He is a very active business man, and 
actually follows people to their homes, and forces 
his way in, and describes his stock to them as 
being the best in the world. And all the time he 
is doing so he is peering around in their closets, 
in their chests, everywhere, with the intention 
of robbing them. The fact that he is so pleasant 
to look at makes him very popular, and I only 
tell you the truth when I say to you that he is the 
only rival we have in business that we are really 
afraid of. We can compete with Folly but—" 

Mr. Promptness's words were interrupted by 
his rival across the way, who, observing Bobby 
standing in the doorway, cleverly tossed one of 
his cards across the street so that it fell at the 
little boy's feet. Bobby stooped down and picked 
it up and read it. It went this way : 



THE SHOP OF IDLENESS 

PROCRASTINATION, ' 

General Manager. 
Put ( )fF P'verything And Visit Our Shop. 



"So he 's Procrastination, is he?" said Bobby, 
looking at the man with much interest, for he 
had heard his father speak of him many a time, 
only his father called him "old Putoff." 

"Yes, and he is truly what they say he is," 
said Mr. Promptness ; "the thief of time." 

"He does n't look like a thief," said Bobby. 

Now it is a peculiarity of Procrastination that 
he has a very sharp pair of ears, and he can hear 
a great many things that you would n't think 
could travel so far, and, as Bobby spoke, he 
turned suddenly and looked at him, waved his 
hand, and came running across the street, calling 
out to Bobby to wait. Mr. Promptness seized 
Bobby by the arm, and pulled him into the Time 
Shop, but not quickly enough, for he was unable 
to close the door before his rival was at their 
side. 

"Glad to see you. my boy," said Procrasti- 
nation, handing him another card. "Come on 
over to my place. It 's much easier to find what 
you want there than it is here, and we 've got a 
lot of comfortable chairs to sit down and think 
things over in. You need n't buy anything to- 
day, but just look over the stock." 

"Don't mind him, Bobby," said Mr. Prompt- 



ness, anxiously whispering in the boy's ear. 
"Come along with me and see the things we 
keep on the upper floors — I am sure they will 
please you." 

"Wait just a minute, Mr. Promptness," replied 
Bobby. "I want to see what Mr. Procrastination 
looks like close to." 

"But, my dear child, you don't seem to realize 
that he will pick your pocket if yovi let him come 
close — " pleaded Mr. Promptness. 

But it was of no use, for the unwelcome visitor 
from across the way by this time had got his 
arm through Bobby's and was endeavoring to 
force the boy out through the door, although the 
elevator on which Bobby and Mr. Promptness 
were to go up-stairs was awaiting them. 

"When did you come over?" said Procrastina- 
tion, with his pleasantest smile, which made 
Bobby feel that perhaps Mr. Promptness, and his 
father, too, for that matter, had been very unjust 
to him. 

"Going up!" cried the elevator boy. 

"Come, Bobby," said Mr. Promptness, in a be- 
seeching tone. "The car is just starting." 

"Nonsense. What 's your hurry?" said Pro- 
crastination. "You can take the next car just 
as well." 

"All aboard!" cried the elevator boy. 

"I '11 be there in two seconds," returned Bobby. 

"Can't wait," cried the elevator boy, and he 
banged the iron door to, and the car shot up to 
the upper regions where the keepers of the Time 
Shop kept their most beautiful things. 

"Too bad!" said Mr. Promptness, shaking his 
head, sadly. "Too bad ! Now, Mr. Procrastina- 
tion," he added, fiercely, "I must ask you to 
leave this shop, or I shall summon the police. 
You can't deceive us. Your record is known 
here, and — " 

"Tutt-tutt-tutt, my dear Mr. Promptness !" re- 
torted Procrastination, still looking dangerously 
pleasant, and smiling as if it must all be a joke. 
"This shop of yours is a public place, sir, and I 
have just as much right to spend my time here 
as anybody else." 

"Very well, sir," said Mr. Promptness, shortly. 
"Have your own way if you prefer, but you will 
please remember that I warned you to go." 

Mr. Promptness turned as he spoke and touched 
an electric button at the back of the counter, and 
immediately from all sides there came a terrific 
and deafening clanging of bells; and from up- 
stairs and down came rushing all the forces of 
time to the rescue of Bobby, and to put Procras- 
tination out. They fell upon him like an army, 
and shouting, and struggling, but still smiling as 
if he thought it the greatest joke in the world, 



igog.] 



THE TIME SHOP 



201 



the unwelcome visitor was at last thrust into the 
street, and the doors were barred and bolted 
against his return. 

"Mercy me!" cried Bobby's friend the Clock, 
rushing up just as the door was slammed to. 
"What 's the meaning of all this uproar?" 

"Nothing," said Mr. Promptness. "Only that 
wicked old Procrastination again. He caught 
sight of Bobby here — " 

"He has n't hurt him ?" cried the Clock. 
"Not much, if any," said Mr. Promptness. 
"You did n't have anything to do with him, did 
you, Bobby ?" asked the Clock, a trifle severely. 
"Why, I only stopped a minute to say how do 
you do to him," began Bobby, sheepishly. 

"Well, I 'm 
sorry that you 
should have made 
his acquaintance," 
said the Clock ; 
"but come along. 
It 's getting late 
and we 're due 
back home. Paid 
your bill?" 

"No," said Mr. 
Promptness, sad- 
ly. "He has n't 
had it yet, but 
there it is, Bobby. 
I think you will 
find it correct." 
He handed the 
little visitor a 
memorandum of 
all the charges 
against him. Bob- 
by ran over the 
items and saw 
that the total 
called for a pay- 
ment of eight 
. days, and fifteen 
hours, and twenty- 
three minutes, and nine seconds, well within the 
value of the time-checks the good floor-walker 
had given him, but alas! when he put his hand 
in his pocket to get them they were gone. Not 
even a minute was left ! 

Procrastination had succeeded only too well ! 
"Very sorry, Bobby," said Mr. Promptness, 
"but we cannot let the goods go out of the shop 
until they are paid for. However," he added, "al- 
though I warned you against that fellow, I feel 
sorry enough for you to feel inclined to help you 
a little, particularly when I realize how much 
you have missed in not seeing our treasures on 
Vol. XXXVI. -26-27. 




' THAT SAUCY OLD CLOCK GRINNED! 




the higher floors. 
I '11 give you five 
minutes, my boy, 
to pay for the 
little card for 
your mother's 
Christmas pres- 
ent." 

He placed the 
card in the little 
boy's hand, and 
turned away with 
a tear in his 
eye, and Bobby 
started to ex- 
press his sorrow 
at the way things 
had turned out, and his thanks for Mr. Prompt- 
ness's generosity, but there was no chance for 
this. There was a whirr as of many wheels, and 
a flapping as of many wings. Bobby felt himself 
being whirled around, and around, and around, 
and then there came a bump. Somewhat terrified 
he closed his eyes for an instant, and when he 
opened them again he found himself back on the 
parlor rug, lying in front of the fire, while his 
daddy was rolling him over and over. The lad 
glanced up at the mantel-piece to see what had 
become of the Clock, but the grouchy old ticker 
stared solemnly ahead of him, with his hands 
pointed sternly at eight o'clock, which meant that 
Bobby had to go to bed at once. 

"Oh, let me stay up ten minutes longer," 
pleaded Bobby. 

"No, sir," replied his father. "No more Pro- 
crastination, my son — trot along." 

And it seemed to Bobby as he walked out of 
the room, after kissing his father and mother 
good-night, that that saucy old Clock grinned. 

Incidentally let me say that in the whirl of his 
return Bobby lost the card that the good Mr. 
Promptness had given him for his mother, but 
the little fellow remembered the words that were 
printed on it, and when Christmas morning came 
his mother found them painted in water-colors 
on a piece of cardboard by the boy's own hand ; 
and when she read them a tear of happiness came 
into her eyes, and she hugged the little chap and 
thanked him, and said it was the most beautiful 
Christmas present she had received. 

"I 'm glad you like it," said Bobby. "It is n't 
so very valuable though. Mother. It only cost 
me two hours and a half, and I know where you 
can get better looking ones for five minutes." 

Which extraordinary remark led Bobby's 
mother to ask him if he were not feeling well! 




-am 




BY KATHRYN JARBOE 



The snow was falling in soft, fugitive flakes 
down over the gray land, sifting through the 
branches of the dark pines on the hillside, slip- 
ping from the carved cornices of the old temple 
in the shadow of the pines, drifting into the 
shrine to touch the gilded image of Buddha that, 
for centuries, had looked unmoved on sun and 
snow alike. For this all happened in Japan. 

In the pretty garden in front of the little mis- 
sionary house, the snowflakes flecked the feathers 
of the bronze crane, rested on the broad back of 
the stone turtle, and heaped themselves upon the 
dwarf cypresses, the miniature hills and dales, 
and tiny little bridges. Almost as unheeded, 
they fell upon little Davy Brewster, who sat 
upon the steps overlooking the garden, his elbows 
on his knees, his chin cuddled into his pink palms. 
The feathery atoms rested on his yellow curls, 
on his little black shoulders, his thin black legs, 
and his shining black shoes. He knew well 
enough that it was snowing ; he even watched, 
with moody eyes, one huge flake, bigger than all 
the rest, that sailed on and on, lifting now and 
then as though it were all unwilling to alight in 
the toy garden, as though it would float on across 
to the temple gate, to the golden Buddha itself. 
Davy knew, too, that it was Christmas eve ; that, 
after weeks of weary waiting, Christmas had 
come to every one in his own far-off land. But 
not to him and to his mother. 

He could hear her chair rocking softly back- 
ward and forward just inside the door. He knew 
just how she looked, sitting there in her new 
black gowh. He knew that if he went in to 
speak to her she would draw him close in her 
arms and whisper: "Oh, Davy, Davyboy!" He 
knew that if he asked her the same question, she 
would give him the same answer; that if he 
asked her if Santa Claus was coming to-night, 
she would say tenderly that there could be no 
Christmas for him or for her, because they were 
left all alone in the world. He was sure that he 
could kiss her tears away; that if he held his 
hands on her cheeks and told her how much he 
loved her, she would stop crying; but he knew, 
oh, yes, he knew very well that what she had said 
was true — that Christmas was not coming to them. 

It was such a little time ago that his father had 
been with them, though, that his father had told 
him that Christmas would come when the snow 



came. Now the white flakes were flying down 
from the sky, nestling everywhere upon the 
ground, but— but it was n't Christmas, it was n't 
Christmas for him. He wondered if it was 
Christmas in the heaven where his father had 
gone. 

The snowflakes fell faster, the gray night 
slipped over the land. The temple bell boomed 
heavily down from the shadowed hill, and its 
waves of magical music rolled across the thatch- 
roofed village, across the fields, away to the misty 
horizon. Into the silence that trailed behind, the 
child's blue eyes gazed in a new terror of loneli- 
ness. Scrambling to his feet, he fled into the 
house and flung himself into his mother's arms, 
sobbing uncontrollably. 

Mrs. Brewster held him close and whispered : 
"Davy, Davyboy!" For just an instant her tears 
fell on his yellow curls. Only for that instant, 
though, did he forget the promise he had made 
to his father— to be a brave boy. Suddenly 
mindful of it, he cuddled her cheeks with his 
hands, and kissed the tears from her tired eyes. 

The ^Christmas sun flung down upon the white 
world a flood of golden light and glory. The 
branches of the pine-trees drooped under their 
burdens ; the temple roof was all smooth and 
white and undefiled; the lap of the golden 
Buddha was heaped with snow ; the bronze crane 
stood knee deep in the feathery mass ; the stone 
turtle showed only his pointed head. D?.vy, sit- 
ting again on the steps that led down into the 
garden, looked out toward the horizon that was 
shimmering blue and pink and white, and won- 
dered where Christmas did begin, v/ondered just 
how near to him Santa Claus had come. 

From the horizon his eyes wandered back across 
the village of thatched roofs that lay at the foot 
of the hill. A bright line of vivid color, red and 
blue and green, was moving slowly along the 
snow-covered road that led from the village to 
the hill. Davy knew that it was the children 
from the Mission school wearing their gayest, 
brightest kimonos. He watched them as they 
tumbled along over the snow in their high stilted 
clogs, and wondered where they were going and 
what they were doing. Then he saw that they 
were climbing the hill, slipping and sliding, but 
always climbing. He heard them laughing and 



THE LESSON LEARNED 



203 



chattering in their high, shrill voices. All at 
once he was terribly afraid that they were com- 
ing to his house. He had not been down to the 
Mission since his father had gone away; he had 
not seen any of the children since then, and his 
only impulse was to run into the house and hide. 
He did not move, though, and soon the line of 
boys and girls, looking like giant birds and but- 
terflies of brilliant plumage, filed along the gar- 
den path, past the bronze stork, past the turtle's 
head, past all the tiny little bridges and tiny 
trees. Their faces were grave, their voices were 



"It "s Chrrissmus for ever' one, Davysan," he 
said at last. "It 's Chrrissmus for all the world. 
Your father, Revera Brewster, said it 's Chrriss- 
mus for ever' one." 

"But not for Muvver and me," answered Davy, 
shaking his head again. " 'Cause we 're all alone. 
Christmas could n't come to us, 'cause father 's 
died and we 're all alone in Japan." 

"Revera Brewster said — " Otoyasan stopped. 
It was hard to remember the words, harder yet 
to repeat them. "Revera Brewster said," he be- 
gan again determinedly, "that Chrrist love all 




DAVY HE.\RD THEM LAUGHING AND CH.ATTERING IN THEIR HIGH, SHRILL VOICES. 



hushed as they looked up at the somber little boy 
sitting on the steps. They huddled close to- 
gether, each trying to hide behind his neighbor, 
all save a Japanese boy called Otoyasan. He was 
but a few years older than Davy and had been a 
constant companion of the small American lad. 

Otoyasan bowed low and all the line of his 
little followers ducked their heads in greeting. 

"Good morning!" Davy spoke gravely and re- 
turned the low salute with an awkward little bow. 

"Mer' Chrrissmus!" cried Otoyasan. The 
other children tried to echo the strange words. 

"It is n't Christmas here, Otoyasan." Davy 
stood up now and rammed his small clinched fists 
deep into his tiny pockets. "It can't be Christ- 
mas for Muvver and me." 

Otoyasan looked at him curiously, rubbed his 
hands together and, for a moment, did not speak. 



the world. He said Chrrist love us ever' day. 
We must love Chrrist ever' day. We must love 
ever'body ever' day ; but Chrrissmus Day we 
show Chrrist we lov^e him by make ever'body 
happy. We say 'Mer' Chrrissmus ever'body!' we 
give presents ever'body." Otoyasan paused and 
looked at Davy. He had not remembered all the 
words of the Reverend David Brewster. He had 
not repeated them even as he remembered them. 
"We lig you, Davysan," he went on with sudden 
desperation. "We bring you present." He 
drew from his long scarlet sleeve a tiny sami- 
sen and laid it on the steps near Davy's feet. 
Near it he placed a small gray fan. "For her," 
he murmured, nodding toward the door of the 
house. "We lig her, too, Davysan." 

The orator of the day had spoken. The pre- 
sentation of his gifts was the signal for which his 



204 



THE LESSON LEARNED 



followers had waited. Now they crowded close 
about Davy, each laying his or her gift for the 
boy on the step near Otoyasan's samisen, each 
putting some small article near the fan that was 
meant for Mrs. Brewster. To Davy, they had 
brought paper fish and animals, wooden trays 
and boxes, thin rice-cakes and colored sugar 
wafers; to Mrs. Brewster, bits of silk and parch- 
ment painted with birds and flowers and a great, 
white paper lotus-blossom. For a moment Davy 
stood and looked at the little party-colored group 
of children. Then he turned toward the house. 

"Muvver, Muvver!"' he shouted, "Christmas 
has come to us, after all ! See, we 're not alone 
any more!" He pointed not to the gifts but to 
the children. "Muvver, they are our Christmas!" 



For only an instant did Mrs. Brewster hold 
her hands close pressed against her eyes. Then 
she knelt down on the veranda. 

"Davy, Davyboy," she whispered. "Indeed, 
it is our Christmas — the dearest Christmas that 
could be, because — because He sent it to us." 

A ray of sunlight slipped through a rift in the 
temple roof and lay full on the golden Buddha, 
on the folded hands, on the downcast lids, on the 
lips that smiled in an eternal peace. In the same 
sunlight knelt the American mother, one arm 
about her own boy, the other holding close a 
little Japanese lad in his gay scarlet kimono. 
"Peace on earth, good-will to men and love 
eternal," she murmured. The lesson had been 
taught and learned and taught again. 




MUVVER, MU'VVEK ! ' HE SHOUTED, ' CHUISTMAS HAS COME TO US, AFTER ALL!' 




The Elves are busy cutting up old calendars just now, 

To make them into new ones (though they '11 never tell you how). 

But some of them fly straight to Earth, the first day of the year, 

To whisper good resolves and golden rules afar and near. 

So if you '11 just make up your minds — you happy girls and boys — 

To be as good as you can be, you '11 double all your joys ! 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



BY BRADLEY OILMAN 



Chapter VIII 



AN APPARITION 



During the night the sand-storm ceased. Its at- 
tack on the old prison had been fierce but vain. 
With reluctance the wild demon gave up the 
struggle. 

For it is given to the Hkhamseen to rage only 
for a few hours. Could it have continued the 
attack on Tourah for weeks, had it lengthened 
its brief night attack into a siege, the great con- 
vict settlement would have been buried in a 
mound of sand. 

The storm ceased, the air cleared, and the 
heavens were revealed in all their tropic splen- 
dor. A crescent moon was in the west ; like a 
silver barge it rode upon the blue of the night, 
as a careening felucca rides upon the bosom of 



the Nile ; and the gray clouds, like humbler 
craft, glided silently by, rejoicing, for a brief 
moment, in that silver radiance. 

The prisoner's escape was discovered in the 
early morning. 

The commandant was informed, as soon as he 
awoke, and armed search-parties went out, with 
orders to bring back the fugitive alive or dead, 
if found. General Hewatt was angry at the es- 
cape ; and why should he not be? To be sure, 
if asked to name the prisoner whom he most 
willingly would have seen gain his freedom, 
he would have named Achmed without any hesi- 
tation ; for the young Arab had seemed to him 
less like a felon than a wild creature mistakenly 
caught in the meshes of the law. Still, it was a 
part of a commandant's duty to hold every man 
committed to his charge. 



206 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



[Jan., 



So it was with extreme irritation that he went 
over to the scene of the escape. He was soon 
joined by Ted Leslie, and the two discussed the 
probable details of the young Bedouin's move- 
ments. The manacles had been quickly found, 
half-buried in a sand-drift. Had any official con- 
nived at the escape? Could the prisoner, un- 
aided, have freed himself? On this point doubt 
was expressed by everybody. All footprints 
had been blotted out by the loose sand, which 
now lay in mounds and windrows, throughout 
the courtyard. But on the other side of the 
wall, which was more sheltered, the imprints of 
human feet had been found, at the base of the 
acacia ; and the escape was imderstood by all 
the officials to have been made by that tree. 
Still, how the youth, unaided, unequipped with 
ladder or rope, could have reached the tree,— 
that puzzled all the experienced heads of the 
prison. 

It was made clear, however, a half hour later, 
when a half-naked fellah was brought in by one 
of the search-parties. He had been found a few 
miles at the east of the prison, bound hand and 
foot. He was the head of the family living there ; 
such families were scattered about the low sand- 
hills, near the base of the giant Mokattam range. 
The men of such a family dwelt at night in 
holes, or burrows, in the ground, near by. 

It was this nondescript sort of human being 
who had been brought into the prison. His dia- 
lect was an almost meaningless jargon; but 
with care and repetition it could be made out. 

"Tell us your story!" said the commandant, as 
the stupid fellow was brought before him. "You 
were tied by somebody, they tell me ; who did 
it?" 

"A fiend" ; responded the fellah, promptly, 
trembling in dread of this ominous place and 
this august presence. 

The commandant's face expressed impatience. 
"Yes, and now tell us how he did it ! Where 
were you? Where did it happen?" 

"It was last night," said the fellah ; and a look 
of terror came to his red eyes. "I crept out of 
my burrow, to look after the goats, for the 
Hkhamseen had ceased. The Shaitan (fiend), or 
perhaps only an Afreet (spirit), was almost 
naked, and was much like a man ; his body, and 
arms, and legs, were like a man's; ayivah ! 
(yes), but his head, his face, that was like a 
fiend, really. It was covered with something 
that flapped ; his ears, perhaps ; and his eyes — 
oh, his eyes were terrible: large, staring, like- 
like windows with a fire behind them. He 
caught me with a terrible grip ; and he took 
away my clothing, and put it on himself—" 



By this time the commandant had reached a 
tolerably correct idea of Achmed's escape. He 
had been examining the pieces of rope or cord 
with which the native had been bound ; now he 
turned to Ted and said, with something in his 
voice as near reproof as he could allow himself 
to use toward his ward : "Your Bedouin was 
very clever. Don't you see how he managed it? 
He made a rope out of those fine clothes which 
you bought for him in Cairo ; he climbed into 
the tree yonder and went down the trunk ; what 
the chap says about the fiend's eyes and ears ex- 
plains what I was much puzzled about. Evi- 
dently the clever young fellow stole a pair of 
spectacles somewhere, and padded them close to 
his eyes, and tied a piece of cloth over his mouth. 
That is the way I understand it. That is the only 
way, too, in which he could have breathed and 
traveled in a sand-storm. What he wanted of 
this native was his clothing, his own having 
been used up in making rope." And the com- 
mandant dangled the piece of twisted and 
knotted cloth. 

Ted Leslie had no response to offer. If he 
had spoken his honest thought he would have 
said that he was glad of Achmed's escape ; it 
seemed an admirable solution of a hard problem. 
The fellah stood stupidly gazing about him. 
General Hewatt knew the kind of life he lived, 
and had even noted the low-roofed, brown tents 
of his family, a week or two before. "They are 
directly east of here," he mused, "or perhaps a 
trifle toward the southeast." Then he spoke 
sharply to the man. "Which way did the fiend 
go when he left you ?" 

The fellah was much agitated, but seemed 
to answer honestly, after a moment's reflection. 
"That way!" he said, extending his lean, bare 
arm toward the southeast. 

General Hewatt nodded at this confirmation 
of his theory. "He has gone out into the Mo- 
kattam Hills," he said angrily; "he will join 
'the gang' there. We can't reach those fellows, 
out in that region. Not all the police in Cairo 
can do it. Under his clever leadership they will 
be more dangerous than ever." 

That was where the astute commandant of 
Tourah made a misjudgment; that was where he 
was outgeneraled by the clever son of Abou- 
Kader, who had wished to elude recapture. 

Believing himself to be right, however. Gen- 
eral Hewatt gave orders that the giant acacia 
should be cut down ; and he sent the police squad 
from Cairo back to the central office, with the 
message that the young Arab murderer had es- 
caped during an unusually heavy Hkhamseen ; 
and had not yet been recaptured. 



igog-l 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



207 



Chapter IX 

A REFUGE FROM THE HEAT 

AcHMED had not distinctly planned to plunder 
the wretched fellah of his clothing, but, as he 
had hastened away from the prison, he discov- 
ered the fellah habitation, and circumstances 
favored him more than he had expected. He 
purposely allowed the native to see him depart 
in a southeasterly direction, but after a few min- 
utes he wheeled about, and came directly — and 
now more swiftly, in the increasing light of the 
clearing heavens,— back toward the Nile; for 
his instinct, as well as his cool judgment, led 
him away from the habitations of men, out into 
the trackless desert,— his home. 

He had no desire whatever to join himself to 
the lawless gang of escaped convicts in the Mo- 
kattam Hills. He had heard enough prison gos- 
sip to know of their existence, and their ruffianly 
mode of life; but his one aim was to rejoin his 
father, and find peace and affection in the com- 
panionship of his friends and kindred. 

"The Gang," as it was commonly called, by the 
balked officers of the law, by the timid natives, 
and by the foreign residents near Helouan, had 
made itself a source of terror in all that region. 
A half dozen escaped convicts had fled to the im- 
pregnable fastnesses of the Mokattam range, 
and there, in the tortuous ravines and gloomy 
caverns of that wild country they had long been 
able to defy capture. They raided the flocks of 
careless shepherds and goatherds, and occasion- 
ally seized some incautious traveler, holding him 
for a ransom. 

No better region than the rugged Mokattam 
Hills can be imagined for this kind of defiant 
retreat. The country is a vast desolation of 
limestone rock, with a soil of clay furrowed by 
occasional tropic rain-storms into gorges and 
caves, which are bewildering and dangerous to 
any one not familiar with every rod of the 
ground. Centuries ago these rocky hills fur- 
nished the blocks of stone from which were 
built the great pyramids across the Nile ; and 
portions of the hills are honeycombed with gal- 
leries and tunnels, in which serpents and jackals 
dispute possession with all comers. The wadies, 
or ravines, are irregular in formation, and the 
periodic torrents which now and then roar 
through them often plunge into the bowels of 
the earth, finding issue through some cavern, 
miles away. 

Such was the secure retreat of "the gang" ; 
and their lawless mode of life was much like the 
wild region in which they dwelt. That kind of 
life had no attraction for Achmed, son of Abou- 



Kader; and he had not once thought of making 
himself a part of it. Instead, having thrown 
possible pursuers on a false scent, he at once 
sought the muddy banks and thick sedges of the 
Nile, and there cast anxiously about him for 
some means of crossing the broad stream. 

All that day he waited, hidden in the sedges; 
and when night came he crept, under cover of 
the darkness, to a position near a group of fe- 
luccas, moored close to the bank. In his impa- 
tience he was nearly resolved to take possession 
of one of these and attempt the unaccustomed 
work of sailing the unwieldy craft across to the 
other side ; but, fortunately, one of the boatmen 
now came from the little hamlet behind the 
dike, and prepared to embark. 

Achmed watched his opportunity ; and when 
the boat sheered from the shore and pointed 
across the current, it towed behind it the young 
Bedouin, swimming quietly and carrying his cap- 
tured clothing upon his head, fastened securely 
with the remnant of his twisted linen rope which 
he still instinctively retained. 

The voyage was a brief one ; the boatman was 
somewhat muddled by sundry potations in which 
he had indulged, and when Achmed touched foot 
on the opposite shelving shore, and crept unseen 
up into the sedges, he carried with him not only 
his dry clothing, but a parcel of food and a 
ghoolah of wate-r, which he had thoughtfully ex- 
tracted from the seat at the stern of the felucca. 

Shrouded in the protecting gloom of the star- 
lit and moonlit night, Achmed made safe and 
swift progress through the tilled fields and the 
palm-groves which bordered the river. His one 
thought was to reach the open desert. Some- 
where in that wide expanse of sand he knew 
that his father's caravan was encamped ; perhaps 
near, perhaps scores of miles away. 

It was with exaltation that he felt the soft, 
yielding sand under his naked feet, when he 
reached the border of the desert ; and he kneeled 
there in the profound silence of the night, under 
the constellations so familiar to him, and gave 
himself to his devotions with a fervor of grati- 
tude which even his devout soul had not often 
known. 

Once more he resumed his eager course. At 
times his forehead furrowed, as he recalled the 
thrilling incidents of his painful experiences at 
Tourah. He could not reconcile his condemna- 
tion to a dishonorable death with the high esti- 
mate in which he had been taught to hold the 
English. Yet he had certainly been near his 
end, only the day before; yes, he must have been 
equally near, weeks earlier ; but the earnest ef- 
forts of that generous noble American lad,— 



208 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



Qan., 



now "his pledged brother,"— had postponed the 
evil blow; and afterward Allah had sent the 
Hkhamseen out of the desert to aid him in es- 
cape. His heart was full of gratitude to mighty 
Allah, and also to his young American friend. 

Thus reflecting, he strode 
on over the yielding sand, 
laying hold of it with his 
naked feet as one who 
loved it; and now raising 
his hand above his eyes, he 
discerned a great, dark 
mass, in the near distance, 
which he knew to be the 
ancient pyramid of Sakka- 
rah ; he recognized it by the 
serrated outline which its 
terraced sides made against 
the vault of heaven. "El 
Haram el Medarrah," the 
wandering Bedouins call it. 
He had seen its apex, sev- 
eral times, from afar, as the 
setting sun flooded it with 
its beams, and made it a 
beacon to the wandering 
tribes of the Libyan Desert, 
across forty level miles of 
sand. Now that great mon- 
ument of ancient glory 
seemed like a familiar 
friend. 

In majesty the mighty 
monarch of the sands 
awaited the advance of this 
child of the desert ; a min- 
ute and a century were 
alike to it ; in solemn si- 
lence it lifted its storm- 
defying head into the 
darkened heavens, and 
seemed to commune with 
the stars. The tempests of 
uncounted ages had beaten 
vainly against its rugged, 
rocky sides. It was steeped 
in memories of that remote 
antiquity which was already ancient, thousands 
of years before great Father Abraham was born. 
So said the Bedouin traditions. It had looked 
down upon the rock sepulchers of men, at its 
base, and seen them swallowed up for ages in the 
maw of the desert; and it had looked down, but 
yesterday, out of its imperial repose, as human 
ants toiled to lay bare again the massive crea- 
tures of stone which other human ants had fash- 
ioned silent centuries before. 



"Great is Allah !" exclaimed the devout young 
Bedouin. And he drew near to the monarch of 
the Libyan Desert as to one who would protect 
him. 

The dawn was now near. A faint, greenish 




ALL TH.\T D.\Y HE W.MTF.D I\ THE SEDGES. 



light suiTused the East, heightening into a white 
glow near the horizon. The full revealing ra- 
diance of the day was soon coming. Achmed at 
once felt the need of concealment. He must not 
be seen by human eyes, which might penetrate 
the secret of his escape. What better refuge could 
be found than the crevices and crannies of the 
great mountain of rough, irregular rock? And 
at the thought he climbed among the scattered 
blocks of stone, at the pyramid's base, quickly 



igog.] 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



209 



finding nooks and corners which gave complete 
protection from sharp, Arab eyes, and gave shel- 
ter also from the burning rays of the sun, as it 
climbed the blue and cloudless sky. 

The greater part of the first day in the desert 
Achmed passed in sleep. He was greatly fa- 
tigued by his excitement and exertions of the 
past twenty-four hours. But the great Sakkarah 
pyramid held him in its arms as quietly as if he 
had been a babe ; and he slept until the measure 
of his need was fully met. 

During the day, as he awoke at times and 
peered cautiously from behind ledges and 
through crannies, he saw the groups of people, 
— nearly all Europeans and Americans, as 
shown by their dress, — who came to gaze at the 
excavated tombs of that neighborhood. 

They came on donkeys, with donkey-boys and 
dragomans, breaking rudely in upon the dignity 
and sanctity of that ancient city of the dead by 
their shouts and laughter. Their noon meal 
they ate in the now deserted house of Mariette 
Bey, the late French excavator, who had laid 
bare a part of this Necropolis of the Nile, only 
to have it engulfed again soon after his death by 
the restless, greedy sand., jealous of all human 
invasions. 

When these noisy tourists had departed, and 
the sun was near its setting, Achmed climbed to 
the topmost platform of the pyramid. This he 
easily accomplished by using his coil of knotted 
rope. When the lofty summit was reached, he 
gazed eagerly across the desert, hoping to see 
some caravan on its slow, stately journey, or en- 
camped for the night. 

But the desert was bare. The vast expanse of 
sand lay below him like an ocean, like the real 
ocean of which his young American friend had 
told him ; now it was as calm as if asleep ; but it 
could waken and toss and surge, like the blue 
ocean of water; and, like that ocean of water, 
it had engulfed many lives in its deep dark re- 
cesses. 

Achmed waited upon the summit of the pyra- 
mid until long after the sun had set and the 
golden glow had faded in the West. Now, amid 
the darkness, he hoped to see some glint of light, 
afar off, which should mark the camp of a cara- 
van ; but he looked and looked in vain. Through 
the long hours he sat, lifted high above the 
world, a companion of the stars and of the peer- 
less crescent moon ; he sat and rocked gently in 
the dim light, pondering on the nature of the 
stars, and of man, and of great Allah himself, 
who, as the devout Bedouins say, holds all his 
creation easily, yet securely, like a frail bubble, 
in the hollow of his mighty hand. 



Chapter X 

THE SEARCH FOR A FOSSIL 

A DAY or two sufficed to restore the well- 
disciplined prison of Tourah to its normal con- 
dition of quiet and order. The accumulations of 
sand in the courtyards and open passages were 
cleared away within twenty-four hours. 

The work in the quarries under a spur of the 
Mokattam Hills proceeded as usual. Each 
morning the great, double doors in the eastern 
wall opened cautiously, and allowed, reluctantly, 
a train of platform cars to be pulled out of the 
prison yard, along the narrow track, by a small, 
wheezy locomotive ; several of these cars were 
crowded with convicts, in chains, guarded by 
rifles in Sudanese hands. 

All day the exhausting toil went on, and at 
night the men were brought back, like cattle, 
and they filed into their cells. 

Ted Leslie, after a few days of "sight-seeing," 
gave not a little of his time and strength to the 
collection of minerals which he was making for 
a Natural History Society in New England. 
His interest in the young Arab prisoner had for 
the moment kept him from his work; now Ach- 
med was gone ; and although he missed the young 
prisoner, his escape gave Ted a secret joy, and 
also allowed him to continue his collecting. 

In the active lad's mail, one morning, came a 
letter from a friend in London, who wrote, after 
giving some school gossip : "I was talking, yes- 
terday, with a member of the Royal Geographi- 
cal Society, and he told me that the part of the 
delta where you are has some very interesting 
fossils ; he spoke, especially, of the region ad- 
jacent to the Mokattam Hills. K you find any 
rare specimens, get duplicates, if possible, and 
trust me to show my gratitude." 

This inquiry aroused Ted ; although so active 
a young fellow hardly needed any outside stim- 
ulus. Indeed, Ted's strength fell far short of 
his plans and projects. His resolution was 
speedily taken ; he would make a special trip for 
the search suggested. 

A few days later, at about four o'clock, when 
the day's heat had somewhat abated, he set 
forth. His regular donkey-boy had gone, with 
his donkey, to Massarah ; so that Ted was 
obliged to impress into service one of the va- 
grant boys who lounged with their donkeys 
about the railway station. Our young friend 
wore a costume well fitted to the climate : a gray 
serge suit, and a straw hat around which he 
loosely wound a few folds of a thin white silk 
scarf, in the fashion of the "Puggaree." This 



210 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



kind of costume gave the best possible protec- 
tion from the rays of the sun, which, even at 
that afternoon hour, were powerful and danger- 
ous. 

The donkey-boy, clad in one garment only, a 
loose, flapping, dirty gown reaching to his bare 
ankles, carried a thick jacket, a white umbrella 
with green lining, a geological hammer, and a 
small wooden box. The sky was cloudless, save 
for a feathery fringe hanging here and there 
above the white Mokattam cliffs ; and a faint 
blue mist rose above the line of the Nile, a mile 
away at the west. 

There was a freedom about this open life of 
the desert which had a charm for the fearless, 
self-reliant, young American lad ; and especially 
to-day, with a clear object before him, with a 
definite commission on his mind, he was light- 
hearted and happy. He found the shaggy ill- 
kept donkey much harder in gait than was his 
own petted beast, and he was not unwilling to 
alight often, and investigate some dike or ledge, 
or to pick up a fossil, humming contentedly as 
he did so. 

The route which he was following led just 
across the level lands between the Helouan rail- 
way and a spur of the hills; presently, leaving 
this open plain, he turned into one of the wadies, 
or ravines, which extended for many miles back 
into the Mokattam range, intersecting one an- 
other and forming a complicated network of 
winding valleys, of varying breadth, with slopes 
and cliffs rising higher and higher on all sides. 

It must have been near the point where their 
road entered the Wady Dughla or "Valley of 
Wanderings" that Ted's wrathful altercation 
with his donkey-boy arose. At least that was 
his opinion afterward. 

The donkey was small and weak, and had been 
worked hard all through the forenoon, carrying 
stone slabs down to a barge on the river; he 
therefore needed considerable urging ; and the 
donkey-boy, after the fashion of his species, 
plied stick vigorously, until Ted ordered him to 
cease. All went peacefully, for a time; pres- 
ently the kind-hearted lad roused himself 
enough from his geological researches to notice 
that the pitiless but resourceful donkey-boy had 
a sharp nail in the butt of his stick, and was 
noiselessly, yet effectively, using this on the 
tired animal. 

Instantly Ted was ablaze with anger. His 
hatred of cruelty expressed itself in a burst of 
indignation, as he discovered a raw spot hidden 
under the broad strap over the poor beast's 
haunches ; and he poured out his wrath in his 
best Arabic upon the head of the brutish lad, 



and ended by ordering him to leave at once. "I 
can look after myself," Ted exclaimed ; "and I 
will bring back the donkey without your aid. 
You will find him tied to a ring near the guard- 
room gate, this evening. Now go!" 

The donkey-.boy paused, a moment only ; Ted's 
upraised, rigid arm and extended finger left him 
no choice. He turned and picked his way slowly 
over the ledges and loose pebbles, and soon dis- 
appeared around a jutting shoulder of the wady. 

Ted patted the patient beast, remounted, and 
went slowly on his way up the ravine, now scan- 
ning the ground closely; for here was the place 
where he expected to find good specimens of 
fossils ; there were layers of marl and clay, crop- 
ping out under the limestone strata, which ought 
to furnish the soil suitable for such specimens. 

His search, however, was fruitless ; and he ex- 
amined the ground narrowly for better results, 
but in vain. 

Ted grew eager and even impatient. Once he 
just escaped being stung by a scorpion; the 
agile, striped creature glided past his hand and 
disappeared under a rock. The incident made 
the lad somewhat nervous. He was so absorbed 
in his search that he gave no heed to the passage 
of time, and was made conscious of the fading 
light only by the increasing difficulty of distin- 
guishing even pebbles and pellets of earth from 
one another. 

Now, for the first time, he looked about him, 
to determine where he was and what would be 
his best route out of this confusing region. Ted 
had a good "sense of direction," and his eyes 
at once sought the sun, as a starting-point ; but 
the sun had sunk below the very high horizon 
line, and the sky had so thickened with dust from 
the desert that he was at a loss to know the exact 
points of the compass. Nevertheless, acting 
promptly, he turned about, leading the donkey, 
and tried to retrace his path. If the region had 
been sandy, like the open desert, he could have 
easily followed back the donkey's footprints; 
but of sand there was hardly any; the formation 
of the whole wide tract was rock, marl, clay, 
and loose pebbles; moreover, the confused lad 
was vaguely aware that he had made many turn- 
ings in his course. He began to feel more and 
more anxious, and dragged the donkey after him 
at a sharper pace than he had at any previous 
time attained. 

For a short time Ted had hope of finding 
some clue, of recognizing some familiar object, 
by which he might direct his course ; but he 
grew more and more confused, and he could no 
lonsrer disguise from himself the fact that he 
was quite lost; and he now paused in his ran- 



I 




'AT THE TOP OF THE RAVINE STOOD A MAN WITH A GUN." (SEE NEXT PAGE.) 



212 



A SON OF THE DESERT 



dom efforts ; for he was only involving himself, 
the more helplessly, in the tangle of wadies. 

Accustomed as Ted had been to an open-air 
life, he was not fearful of spending the night in 
the hills, without shelter ; but he was nervous 
about possible dangers, from man or beast, in this 
remote region. As the twilight deepened, the ir- 
regular rock formation about him took on gro- 
tesque and suggestive resemblances to monster 
animals, like huge, weird ghosts. Thus, all about 
him, there were horrid shapes ; he knew, when 
he stopped to reason, that they were illusions ; 
but, to the casual glance, in the gloom, they 
were formidable ; they seemed all to be waiting, 
preparing to attack him, simultaneously. 

As he was confronted with these distorted, 
weird creatures, all his self-command and com- 
mon-sense were needed to lift him, in his half- 
invalid, supersensitive condition, above a state 
of unreasonable but haunting dread. He felt a 
strong impulse to relax his self-restraint and to 
rush about, seeking some path of escape ; but 
winds and rains had scoured the sides of the 
ravines into sharp and often deep gullies, and 
further progress became perilous. 

With his nerves considerably shaken, Ted 
hasfened to find some sheltered nook in which 
he might pass the night ; he had taken possession 
of his thick jacket when he dismissed the donkey 
boy; and with that covering he was likely, in so 
mild a climate, to suffer but little from cold. It 
was the loneliness, the vague sense of hidden 
danger, lurking in the darkness, which most 
troubled him. The whole region was a forsaken 
"No man's land" ; and he had heard all the ru- 
mors of vagrant bands of Arabs who haunted it, 
and tales of renegade criminals who made it 
their abode. 

At length he decided upon a little triangular 
spot, under a sheltering rock, for his camping 
place ; and he took the "Puggaree" from his hat 
and used it as a "hobble" for the donkey, .tying 
his two front feet together, in the usual Egyp- 
tian fashion. This done, he brushed away the 
loose pebbles from a bit of ground, put on his 
jacket, and seated himself, leaning against the 
hard wall of rock, an.d tried to quiet his nerves 
for the night. He told himself, many times 
over, that there was no cause for alarm, and that 
when the sun arose, in the morning, he would 
easily make out the points of the compass, and 
return home in a few hours. Cheered by these 
thoughts he felt ashamed that he had given way 
to uneasiness and alarm. 

As he gazed straight out before him, over the 
scene now dimming rapidly, he suddenly thought 

(To be 



he saw something move ; yes, he was not mis- 
taken ; his pulse quickened, and his eyes strained 
hard to distinguish what it was; not a large ob- 
ject, but— ah, there it was again; now he made it 
out, with much relief to himself ; it was only a 
busy sand-grouse, silent, swift; harmless enough, 
and evidently quite at home in this lonely place, 
needing no help, no sympathy. And Ted felt a 
moinentary pang of envy at the self-reliance of 
the spectral figure, now quite vanishing from 
sight. 

The lad was not conscious of a slightest de- 
sire to sleep ; his mind was active, and eyes and 
ears were strained to catch any signs of danger. 
The minutes slowly passed, and the hours 
dragged. There was a new moon in the sky— the 
same moon which was even then shining upon 
the great Sakkarah pyramid, and upon the silent 
figure on its summit. The direct rays of the 
moon were shut out of the wady by its lofty 
walls; only a dim, diffused light penetrated the 
gloomy ravine, and served to confuse and dis- 
tort natural objects into terrifying shapes. 

After a time— it seemed many hours to the 
anxious, sleepless lad — even this light faded, the 
stars had become obscured by a filmy vapor 
which settled into the wadies, and all was dark 
about him, ebon blackness, which seemed to 
cling to his face and blind his eyes as if it were 
a black shroud. The donkey had laid himself 
down upon a scanty patch of sand ; Ted could 
hear him move, slightly, at times ; then all set- 
tled into utter silence. 

Nature seemed to be asleep — or dead; the 
beating of his heart was a mournful companion- 
ship to the lost lad ; once he heard the soft tread 
of padded feet near him ; some four-footed crea- 
ture, with eyes sharper than his own, was doubt- 
less looking at him, watching him. Had Ted 
been armed, he would have been less nervous ; 
but he had brought neither pistol nor knife with 
him. Was the unknown creature bent on attack- 
ing him? He held his breath. A few anxious 
moments, and he heard the soft "pad, pad, pad" 
fading away, as the unseen visitor departed into 
the night. 

Ted thought he never could sleep, even for 
one short minute ; but, presently, his great fa- 
tigue overpowered him, and he closed his eyes 
and sank into a restless slumber. 

When he awoke, the sunlight was pouring into 
the wady, the donkey was browsing on some 
shrubs at his right, and upon a rock, at the top 
of the ravine, stood a man with a gun; the man 
was intently observing him. 

continued.) 







^found I eterKm I aul was so y/ery polite 
That he soid io iKe stones in the slreei , 
ExcVise me, 1 pray, for siepping on you , 
Bui iKere's no oiKer place for my feet . 





THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



BY MARY CONSTANCE DUBOIS 



Chapter III 



A TORNADO 



There had been two uneasy consciences in the 
Orioles' Nest as the minutes went by and Cecily 
and Jean did not appear. Adela peeped out into 
the hall and announced: "There go Jean and Ce- 
cily into our room ! Frisky, do you suppose — ?" 

"She must have found out!" said Frances. 

Curiosity was aroused and the Mice were 
teased into confession. That morning they had 
stolen up to Castle Afterglow to make an "apple- 
pie bed" for Blanche, and had found on the table 
the book in which Adela had discovered Jean 
writing when she had hidden in her closet. 

In their mood of thoughtless mischief the 
temptation to look at the mysterious volume had 
proved irresistible and honor was forgotten. 



"And it 's the queerest thing you ever saw!" 
said Adela. "She 's written the greatest lot 
of poems and stories, and odes to — Carol Arm- 
strong ! She 's dead in love with her ! Well, 
we thought it was a shame for Carol not to 
know Jean was in love with her, and we' knew 
wild horses would n't drag it out of Jean, so we 
wrapped it up in white tissue-paper and tied it 
with red ribbon, and wrote on it, 'Miss Carol 
Armstrong, with love from Jean Lennox' ; and we 
left it on Carol's bureau." 

"Well ! You 're nice girls to belong to the Or- 
der of the Silver Sword !" cried Betty, indig- 
nantly. "That was a dreadfully mean trick !" 

"We did n't mean any harm. It was only a 
joke," said Frances, looking troubled. 

"Come along. Let 's go and see what she 's 
doing in our room," Adela proposed, as the sus- 



214 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



[Jan., 



pense grew unbearable. The guilty twain left 
the Orioles' Nest and crept down the hall, an ex- 
cited procession tiptoeing after them ; and peer- 
ing in at their own door they brought up face to 
face with Jean. 

"Frances Browne, you 've stolen my book !" 
Jean rushed forward and panic seized the cul- 
prits. Frances pulled the door to, shutting Ven- 
geance inside the Mouse Hole, and clung to the 
door-knob with all her might. 

"You stole my book ! I '11 never forgive you — 
never !" cried Jean, furiousl}^ struggling to open 
the door. Adela whipped a key from her belt. 
She had carried it to the party, intending to run 
home first and lock her room-mate out ; but now 
she used it to lock Jean and Cecily in. Then she 
darted away and fled up-stairs. Jean rattled her 
end of the knob till she almost wrenched it off, 
and beat upon the door, crying wildly: "Let me 
out ! Let me out !" 

"Let us out this minute," Cecily commanded. 

"I can't," Frances called back. "VVhitey 's run 
off with the key." 

"We '11 catch her, though !" said Betty. "Come, 
girls !" 

There was a sound of feet hurrying away, but 
Blanche lingered to soothe her room-mate. "Jean, 
don't make such a fuss. Miss Sargent will hear 
you," she called. "They gave your book to 
Carol Armstrong for a joke, that was all. You 
can get it back as soon as they let you out." 

"Frances, you and Adela are cruel, wicked, 
dishonorable girls !" cried Jean, passionately. 
"I '11 never forgive you as long as I live, and I '11 
never forget !" 

But Frances hurried away to join the hunt for 
the White Mouse, and Jean flung herself down in 
despair on Adela's bed, and buried her burning 
face in her enemy's pillow. She knew Carol was 
giving a tea to the senior class, of which she was 
the president ! No doubt she was reading the 
book at that very moment to her class-mates, and 
they were laughing together over those senti- 
mental outpourings. The idea was unbearable ! 

"I wish you would n't feel so badly," said Ce- 
cily. "I don't believe Carol 's reading your book 
at all. I wonder if I could make her hear if I 
put my head out of the window and screeched. 
I 'd tell her not to read it." 

"We can get out by the window!" cried Jean. 
She was across the room in an instant and rais- 
ing the sash. "Come on !" she said, and scram- 
bled upon the sill. 

"No, thank you," replied- Cecily, gripping her 
fast. "I don't care to break my neck, and you 
shan't break yours, either!" 

Jean twitched herself free, however, and let 



herself down to the sloping piazza roof. The 
bow-window of Carol's room was open. In it a 
girl was sitting, and though her back was turned, 
Jean recognized Nancy Newcomb by the copper- 
red hair shining in the sun. The sound of laugh- 
ter came through the open window. 




"'I 'll never forgive you!' cried jean, 

STRUGGLING TO OPEN THE DOOR." 

"Cecily," she said, "I simply must find out if 
those girls are reading my book," 

Deaf to her friend's pleading, she made her 
way slowly and cautiously along the roof and 
safely reached the bow-window. The curtain 
sheltered her, and peeping over Nancy's shoul- 
der, she looked in. There on the divan was 
Carol, flushed and laughing, and struggling to 
rise, while her room-mate, Eunice Stanley, held 
her down and Marion Gaylord sat in her lap, fat- 



igog.] 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



215 



tering her with arms around her neck. Helen 
Westover, standing behind, pressed a fat sofa 
cushion down on the prisoner's head, and called 
out: "Now, Nan, go ahead while I have her 
smothered !" 

Furtively Jean craned her neck and saw the 
lost book open on Nancy's lap. That was the 
moment to speak, but she felt paralyzed ; and 
Nancy began slowly and impressively : 

" To Ca7-ol 

"My love lias a forehead broad and fair. 
And the breeze-blown curls of her chestnut hair 
Fall over it softly, the gold and the red 
A shining aureole round her head. 

Her clear eyes gleam with an amber light. 
For sunbeams dance in them swift and bright ! 
And over those eyes so golden brov^n, 
Long, shadowy lashes droop gently down." 

"Take away that cushion, Helen," said Marion. 
'T want to measure her shadowy lashes. Hold 
up your head. Beauty. Let me see if your eyes 
really are yaller." 

"Oh, pale with envy the rose doth grow 
That my lady lifts to her cheek's warm glow ! " 

Nancy continued. "Lnagine Carol sentimentally 
lifting a rose to her cheek ! She probably pre- 
sented it to the botany class for dissection. 

"But for joy its blushes would come again 
If my lady to kiss the rose should deign. 

"Girls, we 've discovered the rising genius of 
the twentieth century ! I 'm sorry the last verse 
is scratched out and she 's written 'apple' all over 
it, so you can't read a word." She turned a page 
or two and gave a shriek of glee. "This is the 
richest yet ! Carol is the heroine of a novel ! 
It 's called 'Llearts of Gold!' Listen: 

"The sun was setting. The western sky was all ablaze, 
and in the radiance of the dying day stood Carol on the 
brow of Rosslyn Hill. She shaded her eyes with her hand, 
and gazed down the hillside. She was a tall, beautiful 
girl, with sunset gleams in her hair." 

"Sunset gleams ! Oh, now we know what color 
Carol's hair is!" said Marion. "It 's purple and 
crimson and gold and pink, with streaks of 
green 



I" 



"But she was not thinking of the lovely picture that she 
made. Far down the green slope she saw, climbing the 
hill, a tall, athletic figure ; young, handsome, and manly. 
Her breath came quickly; her heart throbbed. Arthur 
de Lancy was coming! " 

A peal of laughter interrupted the reader. Poor 
Jean 1 She listened, her cheeks burning. But 



Carol freed herself at last, and flew to recapture 
the prize. 

"You wretch, give me back my property !" she 
cried. There was a laughing battle, from which 
she came out victorious. The next moment there 
came an unlocked for diversion. 

"Jean Lennox, what are you doing on the 
roof?" The start that Jean gave nearly made 
her lose her balance. She looked up and saw 
Miss Sargent leaning out of the third story win- 
dow directly overhead. The girls, hearing the 
voice, looked out, and Jean stood revealed to the 
senior class. 

"You eavesdropper !" cried Nancy. "You 
scared me to death !" 

"Come in, poet laureate !" called Carol ; and 
Jean came in with the precipitation of a bomb- 
shell, and in an equally friendly manner. She 
was quivering with excitement. 

"Jean Lennox, you 're a genius !" exclaimed 
Carol. 

"Give me back my book !" Jean demanded 
fiercely. 

"Indeed, I won't ! It 's lovely," said Carol. 
"Don't misunderstand, dear. They were just 
teasing mc." 

"Give me back my book !" Jean repeated. 

"No, I won't. It 's too valuable a present," 
said Carol. 

"It 's not a present !" and Jean snatched the 
book away. •"/ did n't give it to you. It was 
Frances and Adela !" 

"Frances and Adela ! Why, what do you 
mean?" asked Carol. "Did n't you leave it here?" 

"Do you think I 'd be such a conceited idiot ?" 
cried poor Jean. "Frances and Adela stole it out 
of my room and gave it to you just to plague 
me !" 

"The wicked little monkeys !" exclaimed Carol. 
"Won't I pitch into them when I catch them ! 
But you need n't mind our seeing your book. 
You ought to be proud of it ! I 'm sure / 'ot 
proud to have such lovely things written about 
me. And you must n't mind Nan and Marion; 
they 'd make fun of Shakspere !" 

"Of course we were only teasing Carol," said 
Nancy. "We were afraid she 'd get vain with 
so many compliments !" 

But Jean was too deeply wounded to take their 
assurances in earnest. Crimson with shame, she 
turned toward the door. Carol followed and put 
her arm over her shoulder. 

"You must n't feel so hurt, dear," she began 
gently. Here the door burst open and in rushed 
Cecily. 

"Frances and Adela came back and let me out, 
and Miss Sargent caught them !" said she. "I 'm 



216 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



cJan., 



afraid she '11 be coming after yoii now, Jean. 
Don't go out or she '11 see you." And then in- 
dignant Cecily told the story of the book stealing 
and the locking in. 

"Those children always were terrors, especially 
Adela ! This is simply out- 
rageous!" declared Carol. 

"We shall have to see 
they are kept in subjec- 
tion after this," said Eu- 
nice, with severity in her 
blue eyes. 

"I intend to suppress 
them," said Carol, with de- 
cision. She stepped out 
into the hall, and stepped 
back again with the warn- 
ing : "Look out, everybody ! 
the sergeant-at-arms is 
coming!" 

The next minute Miss 
Sargent was in the room. 
She carried herself with 
the military erectness that 
distinguished her, and said 
sternly : "Jean, I am aston- 
ished ! You have done a 
most dangerous thing. Do 
you not know that it is ab- 
/solutely forbidden for any 
girl to venture out on the 
roof?" 

"Of course she did wrong- 
to get out on the roof, Miss 
Sargent ; but she was ex- 
cited,— she had been locked 
in and could n't get out 
any other way," said Carol 
in apology for Jean. 

"Miss Armstrong, I think 
you forget yourself," said 
the teacher. "It was most 
unladylike, most hoiden- 
ish, Jean, for a great girl 
of your age to climb out 
there as you did. Do you 
not know that you endan- 
gered your life? It is a 
miracle you did not slip 

and fall. Now, go to your room. I found it in a 
most disgraceful state of disorder just now. Put 
everything in place at once. You will be good 
enough to remain there till Miss Carlton returns 
from New York this evening." 

"Miss Sargent," said Carol, earnestly, "please 
don't send her to her room. She has n't been the 
least bit to blame. Some of the girls have been 



treating her abominably and she 's all excited 
and upset. Just see how nervous she is : she 's 
trembling all over ! Let me keep her here with 
me and get her quieted down." 

"Carol, I must remind you that it is not your 




IN "CASTLE AFTERGLOW. 

place to interfere with the discipline of teach- 
ers," returned Miss Sargent. "Jean, go to your 
room instantly." 

Jean obeyed, but as she left the room she gave 
Carol one grateful look and saw that the brown 
eyes were flashing. 

Then she ran up-stairs, slammed her door, and 
imprisoned herself in Castle Afterglow. 



igop.] 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



217 



Chapter IV 



CASTLE AFTERGLOW 



Jean's first act on shutting herself up in her cas- 
tle was to fling her book across the room. Then 
she picked it up and tore it into fragments. Busy 
with destruction, she forgot to put the disordered 
premises to rights, and by the time that a mass of 
scraps in the waste-basket and a bent and inky 
cover were all that was left of the book. Miss 
Sargent came in. Finding that chaos still reigned, 
she made her scolding doubly sharp. The tired, 
nervous teacher found her pupil most exaspera- 
ting, for Jean would give her only scowls and 
glum silence, and Miss Sargent left her with the 
assurance that her "disobedience and ill-temper" 
would be reported to Miss Carlton on her return 
from the city. 

Slowly and wearily Jean put the room in order, 
tormenting herself over her grievances as she did 
so, and hotly rebelling against life. Suddenly, in 
collecting the scattered contents of her desk, she 
picked up the paper on which she had been copy- 
ing her code of rules for the order. Her eyes 
fell on the heading: "The Order of the Silver 
Sword." The name of that sword was Caritas, — 
it was the sword of love ! At the very outset of 
her quest, Jean had forgotten her silver weapon 
and been worsted when she might have gained a 
victory ! Her brave resolutions came back to 
her: she had decided that her own hot temper 
should be one of the enemies she would fight 
down with the sword of love; and now she had 
fallen in her first battle ! Cecily had seen her, 
and all the girls must have heard her ! "I founded 
the order, and then I got angry the first minute !" 
she said to herself. "And I felt as if I hated 
Frances and Adela ! I said I 'd never forgive 
them ! They '11 all think I was n't in earnest 
in what I said about fighting our battles, and 
charity, and all that ! I 've disgraced myself ! I 
can't ever look them in the face again!" 

Then came passionate longing for home. If 
only she could tell out the whole trouble in the 
comforting shelter of her mother's arms ! And 
the humiliation of her downfall, and the rush of 
homesickness together, brought the rain after the 
thunder. 

That evening, when the girls gathered in the 
gymnasium for the Saturday dance, Carol was 
missing. She had slipped away in her pretty 
white dress, and just as the music was beginning 
she was knocking at the door of Castle After- 
glow. No answer came. She opened the door 
and went in. The room was dark, but the light 
from the hall showed Jean huddled in a forlorn 
bunch on the window-seat. Her head was turned 

Vol. XXXVL— 28. 



away, and she was resting her forehead against 
the pane. 

"May I come in?" asked Carol. 

Jean started and looked at her visitor. 

"You poor little soul, all alone here in the dole- 
ful dark!" said Carol. "May I light up? It 's 
against the rules to come, I know, but I can't help 
it. I simply had to run up and see you ! You 
don't mind if I pay you a call?" 

"Oh, no !" said Jean, longingly, for her heart 
was very hungry just then. 

Carol turned on the electric light. "Why, Jean, 
dear!" she cried, as she saw the poor girl's face. 
It was feverishly flushed, and disfigured with the 
burning tears that had been shed. 

Jean was ashamed to have her piteous state 
found out, and bent her head. But Carol seated 
herself beside the pathetic little figure, and jjut- 
ting her arms around her, drew her close and 
kissed her. 

"You poor little girlie !" she said. "They 've 
been martyring you ! The idea of shutting you 
up in prison like this ! It was an outrageous 
shame! Never mind! You just wait till Miss 
Carlton comes back, and she '11 set things straight ! 
But I 'm glad I got the book, any way ! To think 
I might have gone on to the end of school, and 
never found you out, you dear!" 

Jean listened to the girl who had seemed so far 
above her, and had suddenly, come so close, and 
her poor, little, lonely heart began to be con- 
soled: yet she held herself stiff and erect, for she 
felt her self-control giving way under kindness. 
The tears were rising again, and, in spite of her 
efforts to keep them back, down her cheeks they 
rolled. She tried to jerk herself away, but it was 
no use. Carol had seen the tears, and she drew 
the tired, aching head gently down on her shoul- 
der. Then Jean gave up the struggle, and nest- 
ling close to her new friend, had her cry all over 
again ; but all the time there was the sense of be- 
ing comforted, for Carol's arms were holding her 
fast, and she heard a soft voice speaking the first 
loving, petting words that she had heard in all 
those dreary months at school. Jean lifted her 
head at last. 

"I can't help it !" she said. "I was so home- 
sick, and I wanted — somebody— so much ! And 
— and— I thought— nobody cared. And I was so 
dreadful to-day. I got so angry ! I disgraced 
myself so! Oh, my head! It never ached so 
before !" She pressed her hands to her temples 
where it seemed as if hammers were pounding. 

"Does your head ache so, dear?" Carol stroked 
Jean's forehead. "Why, you poor child ! Your 
head 's burning !" she exclaimed. "Bed 's the 
place for you." 



218 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



[Jan., 



"I don't want to go to bed," said Jean, too tired 
to stir. 

"Oh, yes, you do ! Then we can have the light 
out and let in some fresh air. This room 's cook- 
ing hot ! I don't wonder your head aches." 

"I '11 go to bed later, but I want you, now." 

"Well, you 're going to have me ! I 'm the one 
that 's going to put you to bed. Come along ! 
I 'm a terrible boss, you know ; and I always get 
my own way, so you might as well give in pret- 
tily first as last." Merrily masterful, Carol took 
possession of Jean, and a few minutes afterward 
the patient found herself in bed. 

"I love to play trained nurse," said Carol, tuck- 
ing her up. "Now I 'm going to show you the 
way I cure Eunice when she 's studied herself 
into a headache. I '11 have to go and get some- 
thing first. Will you be a good baby while I 'm 
gone ?" 

"I '11 be good," Jean promised, and she lay still, 
feeling as if the world had turned around in a 
very unexpected way during the last few minutes. 

Carol's "something" turned out to be cracked 
ice, and she returned from a trip to the lower 
regions with a bowlful. 

"Delia was a jewel," she said. "She 's given 
me enough to freeze ice-cream. She 's quite 
broken-hearted because you would n't eat any 
dinner, and she says she 's going to bring you up 
some 'crame toast' when she comes up-stairs, to 
'timpt your appetoite.' " 

While Jean cooled her parched throat with ice, 
Carol rummaged about for handkerchiefs, taking 
tidy Blanche's when she could not find Jean's. 
She soaked a handkerchief, wrung it out, cooled 
it in her bowl of ice, and laid it on the burning 
forehead. 

"Oh, but that feels good !" murmured Jean. 

Carol put out the light, raised the window, let- 
ting in the crisp night air, and settled herself in 
a chair by the bedside. 

"Now," said she, "we 're as cozy as can be, 
and you 're going to sleep like a well brought up 
infant." 

She began to stroke the aching head with a 
soft, quieting touch. Jean closed her eyes and 
lay obediently still ; and gradually, as the cold 
compresses were renewed and the gentle strok- 
ing soothed her, the hammers in her head beat 
less and less violently, until only a dull, throb- 
bing pain was left. But after a while she stirred 
restlessly ; then came a sigh ; then : "How much 
did you read of that thing?" 

"You disobedient baby !" said Carol. "I 
thought you were sound asleep." 

"I was, almost. But then I got thinking. I 
feel so much better now, and I 'd rather talk. 



Carol, — you 're so dear and lovely to me! — I 
think you '11 understand. I think if I just talk 
everything out first, then maybe I '11 really go to 
sleep." 

"Very well, if you don't think it '11 hurt your 
head," said Carol. "That 's what I came up for, 
to talk it all out." 

Jean found Carol's hand and held it gratefully; 
but her mind was troubled. "Tell me what you 
read," she pleaded. 

"I will. But first I want you to understand 
that nobody had the least idea of doing anything 
dishonorable. I did n't mean the girls to read 
the book at all. But like a goose I left it out on 
my chiffonnier, and Nan got hold of it when I 
was n't noticing and the first thing I knew, there 
she was, reading away 1 She 's very sorry now, 
—we all are, — so you '11 have to forgive us all 
round. You would, I 'm sure, if you 'd heard us 
praising you this evening. Promise me you '11 
let me have a copy of those poems." 

"I tore the old book up," the poet confessed. i 

"Jean ! You Goth, Vandal, and Hun ! How 1 
could you 1" cried Carol, reproachfully. "Where 
are the pieces? In the scrap-basket?" <, 

"Yes, but please don't get them out ! I don't 1 
want ever to see that miserable old stuff any 
more. Please, Carol!" And, as Carol rose, Jean 
pulled her back. 

"No, dearie, I won't tease you when you have 
a headache. Only it was wicked of you," said 
Carol. "Promise you won't let the scraps be 
thrown away till I 've fished out what I want. 
I 'm going to compile all the lovely things you 
said about me, and send a copy to my family. 
Then perhaps they '11 really begin to appreciate 
me at. last ! No, dear, I 'm not making fun of 
you, — indeed I 'm not! Honest Injun! Now 
I '11 tell you what I read. I read all there was of 
the novel — " 

"Oh, that idiotic old novel !" groaned Jean. 

"It 's a fine old novel, and you must finish it! 
I read the Odes to myself, and my head 's so 
turned I '11 never get it straight again ! And I 
read most of the other poems ; and, dearie, I 
never heard anything so pathetic as some of 
them ! Jean, have you really been so lonely and 
homesick all this time?" 

"Oh, I 'm dreadfully homesick ! You see I 
never was away from mother, even for a night, 
till I came to school." 

"You poor little thing ; it must be fearfully 
hard for you ! And coming all the way from 
Brazil ! It 's very different from being able to 
go home every vacation like the rest of us ! We 
ought to have a good shaking, every one of us, 
for not joining together and petting you. But 



igog.] 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



219 



you shan't be lonely any more— no, you shan't ! 
Now, dear, tell me, for I 'm puzzled to death. 
How did you ever come to choose me, and talk 
as if I really were your best friend, and write all 
those beautiful things to me." 

"I did want a friend so," Jean answered. "I 
mean a real intimate friend. Every girl in school 
has one except me, and it hurts so to be left out ! 
I don't mean the girls are n't friendly enough, 
but they all have their own chums, and I don't 
like to push myself in. I can't make friends 
somehow ! And so I thought if I could n't have 
a real friend, I could play I had one, anyway. 
And I thought I 'd rather have you than any one 
else in the world. You 're so beautiful, and—" 

"Jean! You have the wildest imagination!" 

"But you are beautiful; all the girls think so." 

"They don't." 

"They do. And then you 're so — so sort of 
splendid, you know !" 

"Oh, mercy !" gasped Carol. "No, I don't 
know ! I 'm anything but splendid !" 

"Well, you are splendid. And I just imagined 
you were my best friend. You know if you im- 
agine hard enough, you can make anything seem 
true. And,— please don't think me a perfect 
goose, — sometimes I pretend we 're having lovely 
times together. I can stop homesick fits that 
way." 

"Jean, darling," said Carol. "Why did n't you 
come right to me? Then we really would have 
had lovely times together. But how was I to 
know you wanted me, when you never came near 
me ?" 

"I did n't think you 'd want to bother v/ith a 
little snip like me. You 're so high up, you 
know !" 

"Please just where between heaven and earth 
do I hang?" Carol inquired. 

"Oh, well, you know what I mean. You 're 
president of the senior class, and you 're so popu- 
lar; everybody just adores you! Carol, do you 
think I 'm terribly crazy and queer?" 

"I think you 're a darling," said Carol, and 
kissed her. "And I think we were a set of horrid, 
old, blind bats not to see you needed looking 
after ! And I think I want to have you for my 
friend just as much as you want me for yours, 
so we '11 turn the make-believe into real, won't 
we? Just you come right straight to me, when- 
ever you want me. Will you, dear?" 

For answer Jean raised herself in bed and 
flung her arms around Carol's neck. 

"I must tell you, though, that the real me is n't 
half as nice as the make-believe," said Carol, 
"but I '11 do the best I can." 

"You 're a million times nicer !" declared Jean. 



"But won't you get tired of me?" she added. 
"I '11 want to be coming to you all the time." 

"Very well, come all the time," said Carol. 
"Come and tell your 'best friend' all your troubles, 
and I '11 pet you up. I think everybody needs 
some one to tell troubles to." 

"I 'm sure / do," sighed Jean. "I always had 
mother at home; but here,— why, I can't even 
write them to her, because she 's such an invalid 
now, and she 'd worry. Oh, I 'm so glad I can 
tell you! I have such stacks of troubles, all the 
time ! Something goes wrong about every day. 
I have such a dreadful temper!" 

"Nobody else ever had one, you know,' re- 
marked Carol. 

"Nobody ever had such a dreadful one. I get 
so furious, I don't know what I 'm saying or do- 
ing, as I did to-day !" 

"Shake hands, Jeanie, I 'm a terrible pepper- 
pot, myself!" said Carol. 

"Carol ! I don't believe it ! I know you 're 
always perfectly lovely." 

" 'Distance lends enchantment,' " quoted Carol. 
"Wait till you know me better." 

"Do you really mean you have a quick temper 
too?" asked Jean, delighted to find this link be- 
tween herself and Carol. 

"Indeed I have ! Why, Fraulein Bunsen named 
me the "Storm Child,' the first year I came here." 

"Storm Child?" exclaimed Jean. 

"Yes. I was only fourteen when I came, and 
I skylarked straight through my first year. I 
used to get into tempers, too; and once there was 
a blizzard raging out-of-doors, and little Carol 
Armstrong was raging away indoors, and Frau- 
lein Bunsen came out from her German class just 
then, and she said : "You are like that tempest, 
liebchen ! I shall call you the Sturm Kind— the 
Storm Child.' She said it in the cunningest way. 
But it made me feel so ashamed of myself that I 
did try to hold my tongue after that." 

"I 'm sure she does n't call you that now," said 
Jean. 

"Oh, yes, she does ! It "s her pet name for nie. 
And I call her 'Bunny.' Little Fraulein and I 
are regular chums." 

"I think you 'd better call me Storm Child. - It 
exactly suits me," said Jean. 

"I '11 name you 'Storm Child the Second,' ' re- 
plied Carol. "Now, Storm Child the Second, 
next time you feel tempestuous, just come and 
pay Storm Child the First a visit ; because, you 
see, I know just how hard it is to keep from 
blazing out." 

"I will !" and Jean squeezed her friend's hand 
tight. 

"Well, have we talked it all out, or are there 



220 



THE LASS OF THE SILVER SWORD 



any more troubles that want to be told?" asked 
Carol, as Jean lay silent. 

"There 's a great big trouble." 

"A great big trouble ! Well, let 's hear it." 

"Why, one reason I felt so terribly was be- 
cause we were getting up an order. I started it. 
It was the Order of the Silver Sword." And 
won to confidence Jean poured out the story of 
the band of battle-maids who were to conquer by 
love, and of her own miserable defeat. 

"Oh, just think of my talking so hard about 
Caritas, and then being so bad and wicked the 
next minute ! I '11 have to give it all up ! I 've 
ruined everything," she ended, with a choke in 
her voice. "I won't dare to say a word about the 
Silver Sword again, ever ! They '11 think I did n't 
mean what I said ! Oh, dear ! I wish I need n't 
ever see the girls again !" 

"Why, Battle-maid, are you going to cry 'Quar- 
ter' as easily as all that?" said Carol, cheerily. 
"You 've only been unhorsed in the first fight, 
and that was always happening to the knights, 
was n't it? They were unhorsed, and then they 
got up again and fought on foot, did n't they? 
That 's what you '11 have to do. Now, you 're 
up ! Now go for the enemy again with your sil- 
ver sword. You '11 beat him next time !" 

"But they won't want me in the order after the 
way I behaved," said Jean. 

"Won't they? You ought to see how the girls 
are all up in arms for you ! I pity those poor 
Mice when they come out of their hole ! Why, 
everybody 's on your side !" 

"I thought I 'd spoiled the whole order," said 
Jean with a sigh of relief. 

"No, indeed, you have n't. And Jean, dear, 
I 'm just as sure as sure can be that you '11 con- 
quer in the end, with Caritas for your sword." 

"Do you really think so?" asked Jean wistfully. 

"I know you will. And I know your order is 
going to do ever so much good in the school. It 's 
a splendid idea of yours : the sword of love and 
the shield of truth ! They 're just the things that 
are needed, I 'm sure. And I 'm sure a girl like 
you, who can think of an order like the Silver 
Sword, can be a fine influence in her class. You 
don't know how much good you can do, Jean !" 

"Carol ! not really ! Do you think there 's a 
chance?" 

"Indeed you can," said the president of the 
seniors. "You have no idea what an influence 
one single girl can have if she stands up steadily 
for what 's right." 

A step sounded in the hall just then. The door 
opened, — and there stood Miss Carlton herself. 

"Jean, my little girl !" she said softly. "Why, 



Carol— are you here !" as Carol turned on the 
light. 

"Miss Carlton, Jean 's sick with a bad head- 
ache," Carol explained. 

"My poor child ! It often ends so, does n't it?" 
said Miss Carlton. She bent down and kissed 
Jean, then took Carol's place by the bedside. 

"I 'm sorry I broke the rules," said Jean. "I 
lost my head when I found we were locked in." 

"I 'm sorry you could not control yourself bet- 
ter, dear," said Miss Carlton. "If you had waited 
quietly as Cecily did, this trouble would not have 
come. Now tell me exactly how it all happened." 

Jean began to explain, but her vague remarks 
about looking for something in Frances' and 
Adela's room, and her hesitation and distress 
made Miss Carlton turn to Carol and ask her if 
she could finish the story. Carol could and did. 
with no qualms of conscience about bringing the 
Mice to justice. 

"My child, you have had a hard trial to-day," 
said Miss Carlton, when she had heard it all. 
"Frances and Adela have done a very wrong and 
dishonorable thing, and one which they will be 
heartily sorry for. And when they come to make 
their peace with you, as they will have to do, you 
must meet them more than half-way, as we say. 
and treat them like the warm-hearted, generous 
girl that you are." 

"I told them I 'd never forgive them," whis- 
pered Jean, penitently. "I was so angry !" 

"Ah, little girl," said Miss Carlton, "we can 
never unsay the things our bad tempers make us 
say. But cheer up, now, for I am trying to help 
you fight your battle, and I fancy Carol is too." 
Bending over the tired girl for a good-night kiss, 
she added: "And wait till the house is on fire 
before you let your nervous fears send you on 
the roof again. Poor Miss Sargent is trembling 
still, I 'm afraid." 

"I am going to be good, now; I will be good," 
answered Jean softly, with a grateful kiss in re- 
turn. 

While Jean rested contentedly on her pillow, 
Carol followed Miss Carlton into the hall. 

"Miss Carlton, I ought to confess," said Carol, 
with more glee than repentance in her face, "I 'm 
here without permission." 

"I thought so, Carol," replied Miss Carlton. 
"But I understand. I know your loving heart 
could not resist going to comfort that poor little 
lonely girl. Carol, you have won Jean's admira- 
tion and love, and I believe you can help her a 
great deal in the battle she has to fight. Vv^ill you 
take her for your little sister for the rest of the 
year?" 



(To he co?itmued.) 




When I Grow Up 



By 



6 W.W. Denslow e) 




COPYRIGHT, 1909, BV W. W. DENSLOW 




"I want my face all painted white,' 
Declares young Billy Brown; 

"And in the ring I'll prance and sing 
And be a circus clown. 



♦ 



"I'll train a baby elephant 

And little donkey, too; 
T'will make the children wild with joy 

To see the tricks they do. 




1 want my face all painted while, 
Declares young Billy Brown, 
And in the ring I'll prance and sing 
And be a circus clown." 



"I'll sing a song and turn hand-springs 

Upon a horse's back; 
And make them shout with laughter, too, 

While riding 'round the track. 

"When I am on the high trapeze, 
They'll think it very queer 

To see me floating through the air 
Or hanging by my ear. 

"The circus man must make to me 

The very highest bid; 
And then some day I'll own a show 

As P. T. Barnum did." 





TheKnight 



««' 



("When I Grow Up") 

By 
W. W. Denslow 



I had lived long, long ago, 
When Knights were all the rage," 
Said Jimmie Jones, "my name might stand 
To-day on history's page. 



<*I must admit if I 'd lived then 
I would not be here now; 
But it is fun to make believe 
I was there anyhow. 



"You 'd read then, how ' Sir James de Jones' 
(That stands for me, you know), 

'Went into battle with his sword 
And laid the pagans low:' 



Vol. XXXVI. -29. 




Nfo Giants tail nor Dragons grim 

Could stand before his spear, j^ 

He quickly conquered ever3^ one, jl^iV 
For he was fi^ee from fear. * O ) 



226 




227 



228 



THE KNIGHT 

"How, ^dressed in steel from head to heel, 
He fought for people's rights. 
And won in many a tournament. 
And vanquished other Knights. 

"'No Giants tall nor Dragons grim 
Could stand before his spear; 
He quickly conquered every one, 
For he was free from fear.' 



"This all, you know, is make believe; 
But still I feel, somehow, 
I 'd like to have lived in those old days- 
But also be here now!" 




CAPTAIN CHUB 

BY RALPH HENRY BARBOUR 



Chapter V 



A TRIP OF INSPECTION 



It was but a very short walk from Mr. Cole's 
house to Dick's hotel. It turned out when 
they got there that the real host was not 
Dick, but Dick's father. Neither Roy nor Chub 
had met Mr. Somes before. Like Mr. Cole, he 
was a large man, but his size was rather a matter 
of breadth and thickness than height. He had a 
round, clean-shaven, jovial face lighted by a pair 
of keen steel-gray eyes, and a deep, rumbly voice 
that seemed to come from the heavy-soled shoes 
he affected. But he was kindness itself, and by 
the time they had gathered about the table beside 
the open window in the big hotel dining-room 
Roy and Chub were quite captivated. And that 
luncheon ! Chub talks of it yet ! There was ice- 
cold cantaloup to start with, and then tiny clams 
lying on shells no larger than half-dollars, and 
cold bouillon, and chops not much larger than 
the clams — so small, in fact, that Chub viewed 
them with dismay until he discovered that there 
were many, many of them, — and potato croquettes, 
and peas no larger than bird-shot, and Romaine 
salad, and— but, dear me, no one save Chub can 
give the entire program at this late day ! I know 
there were lemon tarts and strawberry ice-cream 
and all sorts of astonishing cakes at the end. 
As a matter of course such a repast consumed 
considerable time, and after it was over no one 
seemed in any very great hurry to leave the table. 
So they sat there contentedly while Mr. Somes, 
craftily led on by Dick, told marvelous stories of 
mines and discoveries, until Chub was for aban- 
doning the cruise in the Jolly Roger and starting 
west to prospect for gold. It was almost the 
middle of the afternoon when they finally left 
the dining-room, and then a hasty consultation 
of the time-table showed them that to reach Lov- 
ing's Landing that day and return in time for 
dinner was quite out of the question. Roy and 
Dick were a little disappointed, but Chub took it 
philosophically. 

"We can go up in the morning just as well," he 
said. "We can go any day, but it is n't every day 
a chap has the good luck to be invited to a 
luncheon like that. It 's all right for you fellows 
to make fun, but you have n't been in training 
for two months, living on beef and potatoes and 
rice puddings ! I 'm not objecting, though," he 
added softly; "that luncheon made up for it all!" 



So instead of going to Loving's Landing they 
ambled downtown, feeling very contented and 
peaceful, and obtained a price-list from one of 
the big grocery houses. Armed with this they 
returned to Dick's room and made out a long list 
of purchases. There is no need to set it down 
here, for when they reckoned up they found that 
it came to over ninety dollars ! In disgust Roy 
crumpled it up and threw it into the waste-basket. 

"We 're awful idiots," he said. "What 's the 
good of wasting our time up here when we might 
be out of doors ? Let 's go and have a walk in 
the Park." 

Chub, reclining at full length on Dick's bed, 
groaned dismally. 

" 'Strenuous' is a much overworked word, 
Roy," he said, "but it certainly applies to you. 
Just when I 'm beginning to feel comfortable you 
ask me to get up and walk! Walk! If you 'd 
said ride, now — " 

"Well, let 's," said Dick. "Let 's get on the 
top of one of those silly Fifth Avenue stages and 
bump up-town. It 's lots of fun, honest ; you 
think every minute that the fool thing 's going to 
topple over I" 

"What joy!" murmured Chub. "Let us go. 
I 'm the neat little toppler. Come on and let us 
topple." 

But although they went to the end of the route 
in both directions the coach failed to turn over, 
notwithstanding there were several occasions 
when Chub screamed with delight and told the 
others that the moment was at hand. 

"Now we 're going!" Chub cried. "Stand 
back, men! Women and children first!" And 
when the danger was over he shook his head dis- 
appointedly. "I shall ask for my money back," he 
declared warmly. "What kind of service do you 
call this, anyway? Here I am out for a pleasant 
afternoon topple and nothing happens ! I believe 
I could have some one arrested for this." He 
looked darkly about him in search of a victim. 
"The first policeman I see I shall make complaint 
to. It 's an outrage, a perfect outrage!" 

But when they reached Roy's house the pros- 
pect of dinner had restored his good-humor. Dick 
dined with them, and in the evening they went to 
the theater. 

Theoretically it is a simple matter to journey 
from New York to Loving's Landing. Actually 
it is much more difficult, especially when you mis- 
take the train, as the three did the next forenoon. 



230 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



[Jan., 



and find yourself hurrying off in quite the wrong 
direction. By the time they were able fo get out 
of that train they had wasted fourteen miles. By 
the time they were back in the station, ready to 
start over again, they had squandered nearly 
three quarters of an hour. Roy was inclined to 
be angry, laying the blame, by some remarkable 
method of reasoning, on the railroad company. 

"What did that fellow tell us Track 12 for?" 
he asked irascibly. 

"There, there," said Chub soothingly, "don't 
waste your time trying to find out why anybody 
does anything in a railroad station. They have 
laws of their own, Roy, laws that you and I will 
never comprehend." 

Chub was back in a minute shaking his 
head dismally. "He says Track 8, and that 
there 's a train in about four minutes, but of 
course — " 

"Come on," said Roy impatiently, "don't let 's 
lose another." 

They sought Track 8, Chub expostulating 
against the folly of believing the gateman. But 
both the conductor and the brakeman assured 
them earnestly that the train did go to Loving's 
Landing, and after some persuasion Chub al- 
lowed himself to be dragged aboard. 

"Have your own way," he sighed. "But when 
you get out in Chicago or Cincinnati or New 
Orleans don't blame me, don't blame me ! I wash 
my hands of the whole un- 
dertaking — remember that." 

"I guess it won't hurt 
them," answered Dick cruelly. 

Loving's Landing, at first 
sight, did n't appear to be 
worth the trouble they had 
taken to find it. It was 
largely composed of lumber 
yards, machine-shops, and 
wharves in front of which 
dirty little canal-boats were 
lying. Higgins's Boat Yard 
was difficult to discover, but 
at last they found it tucked 
away between the railroad 
and the river and hidden by 
a lumber-yard. They pre- 
sented their credentials at 
the office and were directed 
to where the Jolly Roger lay 
ready for launching. By that 
time Chub was speculating 
on the chances of obtaining 
luncheon in such a "one- 
horse metropolis." 

The Jolly Roger lay at the 



top of the way, one end tilted high in air. It was 
something of a feat to climb aboard her and more 
of a feat to move around after they were there. 
The doors and windows had been opened, but the 
interior still had a musty odor that caused Roy to 
sniff in displeasure. For the next half-hour they 
roamed around in and out, planning and making 
memoranda of things to buy. The boat was fur- 
nished just as when they had last seen it, al- 
though the hauling out had seriously displaced 
many o"f the articles. In the forward cabin, or 
living-room, just as you had a mind to call it, 
chairs and table had congregated against one 
wall as though holding a conference. 

"Seems to me," said Chub, "we 're going to 
need a lot of things. We ought to have new 
curtains all over the shop, cot-beds, bedding, 
some more chairs—" 

"Well, we 've got those all down," answered 
Roy shortly. "What is most important, I fancy, 
is to have some one go over the engine." 

"That 's so," Dick agreed. "We can do without 
new curtains better than we can do without an 
engine. I 've been look- 
ing at the batteries and 
wiring and they 're all 
out of kilter. We'd bet- 
ter consult Higgins and 
find some one who can 
fix up that part of it." 




CHUB DESCENDED AT KOY S HOME, BAG AND BAGGAGE. 



I909-] 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



231 



"The boat does n't look as attractive as she 
did last summer," said Chub disappointedly. 
"Oh, she will when she gets in the water and 




"'hello!' was roy's gkekting. 'why did n't 
you bring the grand piano?'" 

we have her fixed up," Dick replied. "How 
about painting her outside?" 

They climbed down and had a look at her from 
the wharf, finally agreeing that a coat of white 
on the house was necessary. Then they found 
the boat builder and talked it all over with him. 
As soon as he found that there was a prospect of 
work to be done he was all attention. He offered 
to take charge of the matter, paint her as di- 
rected, have the engine and batteries thoroughly 
gone over and deliver her at a certain dock in 
the North River, New York, in one week's time. 

"Of course he 's yarning too," said Chub 
gloomily as they made their way out of the yard, 
"but it 's a sweet yarn. I don't suppose he will 
have her ready before the middle of July. Some 
one of us will have to come up here every day or 
so and get after him." 

"Don't you worry," answered Dick, "Roy and 
I will camp on his trail, and by the time you 
come back she '11 be all ready." 

Chub allowed himself to be comforted, and 



they set forth in search of luncheon. They found 
it, but the least said of it the better. The next 
morning Chub left for Pittsburg, having bound 
himself as one condition of the agreement with his 
father to spend a week at home before beginning 
the cruise in the house-boat. While he was away 
Roy and Dick fulfilled their promise to keep after 
Mr. Higgins, and that worthy responded finely to 
encouragement. The boys went to Loving's 
three times during the week, the last time bear- 
ing with them the new curtains, which had been 
purchased by Mrs. Porter and made under her 
directions. There were other purchases, too; 
cot-beds that folded into almost nothing when 
not in use, blankets, sheets, mattresses, and pil- 
lows, dishes and a few extra cooking utensils, 
new records for Mr. Cole's talking-machine, two 
brightly-hued and inexpensive Japanese rugs for 
the upper deck and numerous lesser things. The 
provisions were left to the last. They kept up 
an incessant and animated correspondence with 
Chub, who hated to have anything done without 
getting a finger in it, and altogether that was a 
busy week. At the end of it, strange to say, the 
Jolly Roger actually appeared in her berth in the 
river, and the next afternoon Chub descended at 
Roy's home, bag and baggage. 

Chapter VI 

THE JOLL Y ROGER 

When I say that Chub arrived "bag and bag- 
gage," I mean every word of it. 

It was a delightful afternoon— July was al- 
most a week old— and Roy, pausing before his 
front door and fumbling for his latch-key, 
looked westward along the street into a golden 
haze of sunlight. And as he looked, suddenly 
there appeared, huge and formless in the sunset 
glow, something that arrested his attention. For 
a moment he could n't make it out, but presently, 
with a rattle of wheels, it drew near and re- 
solved into a "four-wheeler" piled high with lug- 
gage. The cab pulled up at the curb before the 
door, and Chub leaped out, while the driver de- 
posited his baggage upon the sidewalk. 

"Hello!" was Roy's greeting. "Hooray! Looks 
as if you were going to spend the rest of your 
days with us ! Why did n't you bring the grand 
piano? Or is it in the big trunk there?" 

Chub grinned and directed the transfer of his 
belongings from cab to house. There was a 
small steamer trunk, a whopping wicker trunk, 
a suit case, a case containing fishing rods, a case 
containing a shot-gun, three brown paper par- 
cels, an vunbrella, and a rain coat. The largest 
trunk was placed in the rear hall down-stairs, 



232 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



[Jan., 



but the other things were carried up to Chub's you see. That littlest bundle is a barometer, 

room. And when the confusion was over and Every boat ought to have a barometer, so I bor- 

the cabman, liberally rewarded, had rattled away, rowed it from the front porch. And the other—" 

Chub deigned to explain. "Oh, you need n't tell me," sighed Roy. "I 

"Is n't that a raft of stuff?" he asked, throw- know what 's in that. It 's a sewing-machine." 

ing himself into a chair. "You see, Roy, after "You run away and play ! It 's a pair of 




THE BOYS ARRIVE AT THE WHARF. (SEE PAGE 234, 



I 'd got all packed up I came across two or three 
things I thought would be nice for the boat, and 
as there was n't time to do anything else, I just 
wrapped them up and brought them along. That 
big bundle is a corn and asparagus boiler, and—" 

"A what?" 

"Corn and asparagus boiler. It 's a great 
thing. I found it in the kitchen cupboard. It 's 
sort of oblong, you know, and there 's a tray 
that lifts out with the corn on it when it 's done. 
You see, we 're likely to have a lot of green 
corn and I was pretty sure we did n't have any- 
thing big enough to cock it in. Good idea, 
was n't it?" 

"Splendid!" said Roy. "Did they know you 
were taking it ?" 

"They do by this time," laughed Chub. "I 
forget whether I made any special mention of it. 
There were so many things at the last moment, 



white canvas shoes. I found them after the 
trunks had gone and there was n't room for 
them in the bag." 

"And, without wishing to appear unduly in- 
quisitive," said Roy, "may I ask what the large 
trunk down-stairs contains? You said it was n't 
the piano, I believe?" 

"I '11 show you after dinner," answered Chub. 
"I 've got a lot of useful things in there. What 
time is it? After six? Then I must wash off some 
of this dust. My ! it was a grimy old trip." 

"It must have been. How are the folks?" 

"Splendid ! They 're getting ready to go to 
the Water Gap. My, but I 'm glad I don't have 
to go there ! I suppose, though, I '11 have to go 
there for a while in September. Is the boat 
done? Have you seen it?" 

After dinner Dick appeared and Chub solved 
the mystery of the wicker trunk. The entire 



ipop-] 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



233 



household gathered in the back hall while he dis- 
played his treasures. 

"What do you say to those?" asked Chub, 
pulling four sofa cushions out. "They '11 be just 
the thing for the window-seat in the forward 
cabin, eh?" 

"We 've got pillows for that window-seat," 
said Dick. 

"How many ?" asked Chub, scathingly. "About 
six ! We need a lot. Mother said I could have 
these just as well as not for the summer, so I 
bagged them. And look here ! Camp-stools, 
don't you see? You open them out like — like this 
—how the dickens? — there we &re ! See? When 
we don't need them they fold up out of the way 
— Ouch!" Chub had folded one of his fingers 
in the operation. 

"They 're fine !" laughed Roy. "We can use 
them on the roof." 

"Upper deck, please," Dick requested. 
"What 's the red blanket, Chub?" 

"That 's a steamer rug, and it 's a fine one. 
Feel the warmth of it. I thought maybe we 'd 
want extra covers some time. And there 's an 
old foot-ball—" 

"What 's that for?" asked Roy. 

"Oh, we may vi^ant to kick it around some time 
when we 're ashore. It '11 be something to do. 
And this is an old sweater; I thought I 'd just 
bring it along. And here 's a small ice-cream 
freezer. It only makes a quart, but that '11 be 
enough, I think. And that 's a bag of salt. 
Mother thought I might as well bring it as buy 
new." 

By this time the audience was frankly 
hilarious. 

"But do you know how to make ice-cream. 
Chub?" asked Mrs. Porter. 

"Oh, anybody can make ice-cream," he an- 
swered, carelessly. "You just mix some cream 
and sugar and flavoring stuff and then freeze it. 
I 've seen our cook do it lots of times. Here 's 
my electric torch. That '11 be handy, you '11 ad- 
mit. And here 's a collapsible bucket. It 's 
great ! I saw it in a store window one day. See 
how it folds up when you are n't using it? 
That 's a box of soap ; I knew you fellows would 
forget to put soap on your list." 

Neither Dick nor Roy had anything to say ; 
they had forgotten. 

"Those are some books I want to read. Have 
you read that one, Roy? It 's a thriller! Take 
it along with you. It '11 keep you awake half 
the night. These old trousers I thought might 
come in handy in case any one fell in the w^ater." 

"Dear me !" exclaimed Roy's mother. "You 
don't expect to fall overboard, do you?" 

Vol. XXXVI. -30. 



"No, Mrs. Porter, but you never can tell what 
will happen," replied Chub, wisely. "Those are 
shells for the shot-gun and that 's my fly-book. 
I should think we might find some good fishing, 
eh? Here 's a "first aid" case. Mother insisted 
on my bringing that. I don't know what 's in it, 
but I suppose there 's no harm having it along. 
Here are some curtains ; I used to have them in 
my room until they got faded. I thought maybe 
we 'd find a place for them. And this is an extra 
blanket. I just put it in so that the bottom of the 
trunk would be soft. And a hair pillow ; it 's rather 
soiled, but that 's just shoe dressing I spilled on 
it once. The laundress could n't get it all out. 
And I think that 's all except this thermometer. 
Oh, the mischief! The plagued thing 's broken! 
Throw it away. It was just a cheap one, any- 
how. There, that 's the lot. What do you say?" 

"I don't know how we 'd have got along with- 
out those things. Chub," said Roy, very, very 
earnestly. "How we could have expected to go 
on a cruise without a foot-ball and a hair pillow 
and a collapsible bucket—" 

"And a pair of old trousers and a thermom- 
eter," added Dick. 

"/ don't see. Do you, Dick?" Dick shook his 
head gravely. 

"W^e must have been crazy," he said, sadly. 

"Oh, you say what you like !" responded Chub. 
"You '11 find that all these things will come in 
mighty handy before we get back." 

"Of course," said Roy, "even if we have to load 
them in another boat and tow it along behind." 

"Oh, get out ; there 's plenty of room for this 
truck. You fellows are just jealous because you 
did n't think of them." 

"I quite approve of the ice-cream freezer," re- 
marked Mrs. Porter, "but I don't just see how 
you 're going to work it without the dasher." 

"What!" exclaimed Chub. "Did n't I put that 
in?" 

"Well, I don't see it anywhere; do you?" 
Then followed a wild search for the dasher. At 
last Chub gave it up and looked a trifle foolish. 

"I remember now," he muttered. "I took it 
out of the can so that it would n't rattle around. 
I— I must have forgotten to pack it." 

He joined good-naturedly in the laugh that 
arose. 

"Anyhow," he said presently, "I dare say we 
can get along without ice-cream. It 's a bother 
to have to freeze it. And maybe we can use the 
tub as a bucket and keep something in the can ; 
we could keep our milk in it." 

"I imagine that most of the milk we 'II have 
will come in cans," said Roy. "You don't ex- 
pect fresh milk, do you?" 



234 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



[Jan., 



"I surely do. We can buy it at the farm- 
houses." 

"Condensed milk is cheaper, though," said 
Dick, "because you don't have to use much su- 
gar with it. ' 

"Listen to Dickums !" jeered Chub. "He 's 
getting economical !" 

It was finally decided to leave the ice-cream 
freezer behind, and the bag of salt was donated 
to Mrs. Porter "as a slight testimonial of esteem 
from the master and crew of the Jolly Roger." 
Then the boys went up to Roy's room and sat 
there very late, planning and discussing. 

The next morning found them at the wharf 
bright and early, even Chub disdaining for once 
what he called his "beauty sleep." The wharf 
belonged to a company in which Mr. Porter was 
interested and accommodations for the Jolly 
Roger had been gladly accorded. SheTay in the 
slip looking very clean and neat. The new coat 
of paint had worked wonders in her appearance. 
Each of the boys had brought a suit case filled 
with things, and Chub carried besides the two 
camp-stools and a large crimson pillow. And 
while they are aboard unloading let us look over 
the house-boat. 

At first glance the Jolly Roger looked like a 
scow with a little one-story white cottage on top, 
and a tiny cupola at one end of that. The hull 
was thirty-three feet long and thirteen feet wide 
and drew about four feet. There was a bluntly 
curving bow and the merest suggestion of a 
stern, but had it not been for the white cupola 
on top, which was in reality a tiny wheel-house, 
it would have been difficult to decide which was 
the bow end and which the stern end of the 
craft. The hull was painted pea-green to a point 
just above the water-line. Beyond that there 
was a strip of faded rose-pink, and then a nar- 
row margin of white. The decks were gray, or 
had been at one time, the house and railings 
were white and the window and door trimming 
was green. So she did n't lack for color. 

Small as the boat was she was well built and, 
in spite of having been in use for several years, 
was in first-rate condition. It was nothing short 
of a miracle that so many rooms and passages 
and cubbyholes were to be found on her. Chub, 
in commenting on this feature, had said once : 
"If you gave this hull to a regular carpenter and 
told him to build one room and a closet on it 
he 'd be distracted. And if he did do it he 'd 
have the closet sticking out over the water some- 
where. But just look what a boat-builder does! 
He makes three rooms, a kitchen, and an engine 
compartment, all sorts of closets and cupboards, 
puts a roof garden and a pilot-house on top and 



runs a piazza all around it ! Why, a fellow I 
know at home has a little old launch about 
twenty feet long and six feet wide and I 'm 
blest if he has n't nearly everything inside of 
her except a ball-room ! I '11 be jiggered if I see 
how they do it !" 

On the Jolly Roger, beginning forward, there 
was a living-room nine feet by ten. There were 
five one-sash windows in it, two on each side 
and one in front. Under the front window and 
running from side to side was a broad window- 
seat comfortably upholstered and supplied with 
pillows. Between two of the windows was a 
book-case, in one corner was a cabinet holding a 
talking-machine and records, in the center of the 
room was a three-foot round table, and three 
wicker chairs were distributed about. Forward, 
in front of the window, a tiny spiral stairway of 
iron led up into the wheel-house above. It had 
already been decided that if Harry and her 
mother joined them, a cot-bed was to be placed 
in this room, which, with the cushioned window- 
seat, would give accommodations for two persons. 
The living-room gave into a narrow passage 
which traversed the boat. Across the passage 
at the other end was a door leading into a little 
bedroom, nine feet by five. This held a three- 
foot brass bedstead, one chair, and a lavatory. 
Above the bed, several long shelves and a mirror 
had been built in. 

Back of the bedroom, opening from the deck, 
was the engine-room. The engine was of six 
horse-power and a very good one, in spite of 
Mr. Cole's aspersions. The gasolene tank was 
on the roof above. The Jolly Roger had a guar- 
anteed speed of five miles an hour, but the boys 
soon discovered that the guaranteed speed and 
the actual speed did n't agree by a whole mile. 
The engine-room had no window but was lighted 
by a deadlight set in the roof. Beyond the 
engine-room, on the other side of the boat, was 
a tiny kitchen, or, as the boys preferred to call 
it, galley. This opened into the after cabin and 
was so small that one person entirely filled it. 
But in spite of its size it was a model of conven- 
ience. There were an oil-stove, a sink — you 
forced water from a tank under the deck by 
means of a little nickel-plated pump — , an ice- 
chest, shelves for dishes, hooks overhead for 
pots and kettles, cupboards underneath for sup- 
plies and a dozen other conveniences. As Dick 
said, all you had to do was to stand in front of 
the sink and reach for anything you wanted. 
There was a window above the sink and Dick 
discovered that it was very handy to throw potato 
peelings and such things through it. 

The remaining apartment was a room nine by 



ipog.] 



CAPTAIN CHUB 



235 



seven which the owner had used mainly as a 
store-room for painting materials. Before, it 
had contained only a cupboard, table, chair, and 
a small, green chest. But now two cot-beds 
were established on opposite sides. There 
was n't much room left, but it was quite possible 
to move around and to reach the galley. This 
after cabin opened on to the rear deck, about 
five feet broad, from whence a flight of steps led 
up to the roof, or, again quoting the boys, the 
upper deck. 

This was one of the best features of the little 
craft. It was covered with canvas save where 
panes of thick glass gave light to the room be- 
low, and was railed all around. Outside the 
railing were green wooden boxes for flowers. 
Last summer these had been filled with gera- 
niums and periwinkle and had made a brave 
showing. And the boys had decided that they 
would have them so again. Stanchions held a 
striped awning which covered the entire deck. 
At the forward end was the wheel-house, a little 
six by four compartment glassed on all sides, in 
which was a steering wheel — the boat could also 
be steered from the engine-room — various pulls 
for controlling the engine, a rack for charts, a 
clock, and a comfortable chair. Near the stairs 
there was a little cedar tender, but this was usu- 
ally towed astern. Stowed away below were 
some inexpensive rugs which belonged up here, 
and three willow chairs and a willow table. A 
side ladder led from the upper deck to the lower 
so that one could get quickly from engine-room 
to wheel-house. Topping the latter was a short 
' pole for a flag. Such was the house-boat Jolly 
Roger, Eaton, master. 

"Tell you what I 'm going to do," said Dick, 
when they had unloaded their bags and distrib- 
uted the contents, "I 'm going to try the engine. 
We 'd better find out as soon as we can whether 
she 's going to run." 

"What do you mean?" asked Roy, anxiously. 
"Go monkeying around here among all these 
ferry-boats and things?" 

But Dick explained that his idea was to keep 
the boat tied up. So they looked to their two 
lines which ran from bow and stern and Dick 
slipped into the engine-room. Presently there 
was a mild commotion at the stern of the boat 
which gradually increased as Dick advanced the 
spark. The lines tightened, but held, and Roy 
and Chub joined the engineer. 

"How does she go?" asked Chub. 

"All right," Dick answered, cheerfully. The 
engine was chugging away busily and Dick was 
moving about it with his oil-can. "I did n't have 



any trouble starting it. I don't believe Mr. Cole 
knows much about engines." There was a tone 
of superiority in Dick's voice that caused the 
others to smile, recalling, as they did, his own 
vast ignorance of the subject less than a year 
ago. The summer before Dick had purchased a 
small launch and what he now knew of gas en- 
gines had been learned in the short space of a 
few months' experience chugging about Ferry 
Hill in the Pup. 

"Oh, Mr. Cole always said he did n't under- 
stand that engine," answered Roy. "Turn her 
off, Dick, or we '11 break away from the dock." 

"Wait till I see how she reverses," said Dick. 

"Well, start her back easy," Chub cautioned, 
glancing anxiously at the lines which held them 
to the wharf. So Dick slowed the engine down 
and then threw back the clutch. The Jolly 
Roger obeyed beautifully, and Dick was finally 
persuaded to bring the trial to an end. Then 
they went over the boat again. 

"Where '11 we eat our meals?" Roy asked. 
They looked at each other in perplexity. 

"Mr. Cole ate in the after cabin," said Chub, 
finally, "but there is n't much room there. And 
how about when the others come?" 

"Oh, we '11 fix it somehow. Besides, maybe 
they won't come. We have n't heard a word 
from Harry yet." 

"Well, the letter had to be forwarded from 
Ferry Hill to her aunt's, I suppose," explained 
Roy. "We '11 probably hear from her to-day or 
to-morrow. Half the time we '11 be tied up to 
the shore, anyhow, and we can easily enough 
set that little table on the ground." 

Other problems were solved, and then lunch- 
eon, which they had brought with them, was 
spread on the table in the forward cabin and they 
set to with a will. Before they had finished the 
florist appeared on the scene with geraniums and 
periwinkle for the flower boxes. By the time 
he had transferred the plants from pots to the 
boxes along the edge of the upper deck, he had 
managed to mess the new white paint up pretty 
badly and the boys spent the better part of half 
an hour cleaning up with water and brushes. By 
that time it was well toward the middle of the 
afternoon and then all three were quite ready to 
go home. 

"If we can get the rest of the supplies in to- 
morrow morning," observed Chub as he locked 
the last door and slipped the key in his pocket, 
"I don't see why we should n't start to-morrow 
after luncheon instead of waiting until the next 
morning. We could easily get up the river far 
enough to spend the night. Let 's do it!" 



{To he co7ttimied.) 




FATHER TIME AND HIS 



CHILDREN 



(A MASQUE FOR YOUNG FOLKS) 

BY MARGUERITE MERINGTON 



Characters : Father Time and the Twelve 
Months of the Year. 

Costumes, etc.: Time, an emblematic figure; 
Months dressed according to characters : Jan- 
uary wears a mask at back of head, resem- 
bling face ; February is the shortest child, and 
walks with a skipping leap at every fourth 
step ; March's costume suggests the lion and 
the lamb, etc. Scenery may be elaborate, or 
simple, or dispensed with entirely. A sun-dial 
or a clump of rocks may be placed at back 
of stage, where Time will take his position 
while the Months recite. Snow may be simu- 
lated by small pieces of white paper being 
gently dropped from above, or by a little salt 
being placed in the folds of a character's coat, 
so that it drops off lightly, or by a frothy little 
dab of soap-suds on the shoulder melting almost 
immediately. Taking a commanding position 
Time will summon each Month in turn by 
name, through a megaphone, then when the 
Month appears will retire to the back of stage 
till the recitation shall have been concluded. The 
Months will appear when summoned, in turn, 
disappearing on the opposite side of stage, if 
possible behind a piece of scenery, reappearing 
at back of stage, there to remain quietly till 
the ensemble at close. Appropriate music for 
exits and entrances may be used. The songs 
and dances may be arranged to popular tunes. 
Colored lights if skilfully handled may be used. 



Music : It ends with heavy chords marking time. 
Curtain rises disclosing Father Time. He 
blows blast through megaphone, then speaks. 

Time: 

What ho, hilly ho ! Before you you see 

A being as ancient as old can be. 

Methuselah's decades a thousandfold 

Would not have made him one thousandth as old. 

The ages of all the world and his wife 

Are not a speck on a patch on my life; 

Nay, all your ancestors strung in a line 

Would not reach back with their birthdays to 

mine; 
And though the agedest ancient you know 
The longer I live the older I grow ! 
Oh, no one was ever so old as I, 
Nor ever will be, so 't were vain to try ! 

For, lo ! I am Time, your old Father Time, 
The reason of wrinkles, the rhythm of rhyme; 
First aboriginal native of space ; 
Earliest settler all over the place ; 
The oldest inhabitant here, or there ; 
The latest arrival everywhere. 
By the wink of my eye your clocks are set, 
And the corn you cut when my scythe I whet. 
'T is the wag"of my beard marks music's sound. 
Makes the sun come up, and the world go round. 
And you tell by my smile, or shake of head 
When to turn out, or to turn into bed ! 



236 



FATHER TIME AND HIS CHILDREN 



237 



Now Time is money, so, therefore, you see 
Whoever v/ants gold must reckon with me ; 
Though if I should look with a frown your way 
The gold of your hair might be changed to gray ! 
Or, if your gold is a counterfeit crime. 
You may cheat the world, but you can't cheat 

Time ! 
The wealth I bring is a golden chance 
For making the best of your circumstance ; 
But if too freely you spend what I give 
I shorten your days, as sure as you live ! 
So you, the neighbors, the world and his wife 
Must come to me for the time of your life 1 
For I can make you dance to . . . 

{Dances and sings) 

Quick time and slack time ; nick o' time and back 

time ! 
Back time and fast time ; lack of time and past 

time ! 
Last time and least time ; fasting time and feast 

time ! 
Little time and long time ; tittle-tattle wrong 

time 1 
Sleep time, and train time ; keeping time to gain 

time ! 
Best time to find time ; lest you be behind time ! 
Saint time and sinner time; fainting- for-dinner 

tiine ! 
Night-time and daytime ; right-you-are time ; 

playtime ! 
Make time and meantime ; take-your-time be- 
tween time ! 
Some time and no time ; coming time and go 

time ! 
Zig time and zag time; jigging time and rag- 
time ! 
Prime time and high time; Time-to-say-good-by 

time ! 
(Stops; wipes brow; speaks) Not so bad for an 
ancient, eh? . . . And that is the way I shall 
dance to the End of Time! (Goes to center of 
stage) And now let me present to you my 
twelve beautiful children ! (Begins to call 
through megaphone) What, ho! (Just then an 
unseen clock strikes twelve. Time counts the 
strokes. As the last dies away he summons Jan- 
uary. Instantly there is a great to-do behind the 
scenes, bells, horns, whistles, people cheering, 
&c. January appears.) 

January : 

When the old year dies at midnight's chime 

Behold, I appear ! 
The eldest and youngest child of Time, 

The Happy New Year ! 



Two faces I wear, like the Roman god 

At the temple door. 
Surveying the path by pilgrims trod. 

And the path before. 

Backward looking, and looking ahead, 

Like that god in Rome ; 
We read the roads we have yet to tread 

By the roads we 've come. 

Then, Janus-wise, with our double view, 

Let us bear in mind 
To bring no faults to the year that 's new 

From the years behind ; 

Only good counsels by which we live. 

Good thoughts and good cheer. 
For that is the way to get and give 

A Happy New Year ! 

February : 

Behold the shortest month in all the year — 

And yet I hold my head as high 

As January or July, 
Since Washington by birth belongs to me, 
And Lincoln. Greater glory could there be? 
I 'm sure you '11 all applaud and cry Hear, hear ! 

Also I proudly claim for mine 

That favorite Saint Valentine, 

Upon whose day birds pair and build their nest, 

Lads rhyme about the maidens they love best. 

And maids dream of the lads they hold most dear. 

And then, each fourth time I come round 
I have to give a mighty bound, 
Like fhis ! As if at leap-frog did I play. 
Thus to my twenty-eight an extra day 
I add, to keep the almanac in gear ! 

March (enters roaring) : 

Wrapped in clouds and a flurry of snow. 
Like a roaring lion March comes in ; 
All a boisterous, blustering blow ! 
I rattle windows, and doors I slam ; 
And people's hats, to their great chagrin, 
I snatch and send on a whirling spin ; 
Then, hiding in chimneys, laugh Ho, ho ! 
Oh, what a practical joker I am ! 

Or, rocking the tree-tops to and fro, 

I climb aloft like a harlequin 

To play my pranks on the world below. 

Stout timbers creak when ice-floes jam 

From sea to harbor where ships come in ; 

And flood and freshet their foam-wreaths throw. 

And mill-wheels turn with furious din 

As the mill-stream rushes over the dam I 



238 



FATHER TIME AND HIS CHILDREN 



[Jan., 



O wintry March, will it never go, 
You cry, and suffer sweet spring to win. 
With fields for plowing and seed to sow? 
Then how I laugh, for 't is all a sham, 
My blustering roar and lion's skin . . . 
My practical joke, to take you in ! 
For, see ! I 'm the mildest month you know, 
As I tiptoe off like a gentle lamb ! 



April: 

Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha ! Oh, dear, Oh, dear, 

Oh, dear! 
I am the saddest and the gladdest month of all 

the year ! 
I cry and cry and cry until my tears make little 

pools. 
Because upon my way I meet so many April 

Fools ! 
And then I laugh and laugh until my sunshine 

dries my tears. 
Because though foolish April Fools those April 

Fools are dears ! 
For some are foolish flowers that get out of bed 

too soon, 
Mistaking April's laughter for the call of May or 

June ; 
And some are foolish children who get out of 

bed too late. 
And go to school with tousled hair and most un- 
seemly gait; 
And some are foolish grown-ups. But, in strict- 
est confidence, 
1 think . . . Don't you? 't is time that these 

should have some common-sense ! 
Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha ! Oh, dear. Oh, dear, 

Oh, dear ! 
I am the saddest and the gladdest month of all 

the year ! 

May: 

Oh, I 'm the merry month of May, 
The time of white and tender green 
That nature makes a gala day ! 

Of May-crowned queens I am the queen. 
The happy, singing heart of spring — 
A maiden turning seventeen. 

The fairies weave a magic ring 
About my footsteps where I roam : 
I have not learned that nettles sting. 

Beneath the blue of Heaven's dome. 
Brushed by a feather from Time's wing, 
The world at large I call my home. 



Where flowers bloom and linnets sing 
Within the heart, is aye my home, 
The shrine of May, the soul of spring! 

June: 

See ! The Heavens beam more brightly. 

Days are strewn 
Flowerful, like gardens sightly . . . 

I am June ! 

Hark ! The bird-note sounds more tender. 

Sweetest rune 
To my praises poets render . . . 

I am June ! 

Speed the parting, hail the comer. 

Sun, stars, moon ! 
I 'm the rose, sweetheart of summer . . . 

I am June ! 

(July atid August enter together) 

August: 
August is my name, and I . . . 

July {interrupts) : 
1 speak first. I am July. 

(Together:) 
Hand in hand we come. 



August : 



Because ! 



July: 
That 's no reason. Nature's laws ! 

August: 
Nature's laws? Same thing! Because I 

(Together:) 

We together on our ways 
Scatter summer holidays. 

July: 

All the joys that we unfold 
Children would not change for gold. 

August : 
Nor would teachers, I am told ! 

July: 

Boating 'mid the lily pads. 
Swimming; fishing for the lads . . . 



igog.] 



FATHER TIME AND HIS CHILDREN 



239 



August : 

With a worm upon a hook ! 

July : 

Or with interesting book . . . 

August {interrupts) : 

Dozing in some shady nook ! 

July: 

Picking berries by the road; 
Riding on a haycart's load ! 

{Together:) 

Oh, the pleasures that we bring . . . 

August : 

Sitting idly in a swing, 
Just not doing anything ! 

{Together:) 

But, alas ! our song must close. 
Summer passes with the rose ! 

(August starts to go. July restrains August) 

July: 

Wait until July has passed ! 

August {yaivns) : 

Nothing done from first to last ! 
Nothing wears one out so fast ! 

September: 

It is easy to remember the enchanting month 

September, 
With its mellow days, and nights starbright and 

clear. 
When Jack Frost starts to make merry then red 

leaf and scarlet berry 
And the purpling grape proclaim that autumn 's 

here ! 

Maples flame upon the gray side of the moun- 
tains, and the wayside 

Golden-rod, gold-hearted asters now adorn : 

Like old friends returned from places far away 
we greet their faces 

As we hasten to the husking of the corn. 

There are dry leaves for the raking, there are 
bonfires for the making; 

There are ruddy apples heaped upon the grass ; 

And in spells of stormy weather, in some attic, 
barn, together, 

Oh, how gaily do we make the moments pass ! 

Aye, in sport and happy pastime we were quite 
forgetting class-time 



As it swiftly steals upon us unawares. 

With its sums that must be slated, and its dates 

that won't stay dated, 
And the rocky road to learning's many snares ! 

Then, as misers hoard their treasure, so we 

count our days of pleasure, 
Days that slip away as thread reels off a spool, 
Till resounding lamentation marks the close of 

the vacation, 
As we gather up our books and start for school ! 

October : 

Who says my month is dismal, sober? 
Now that 's a libel on October ! 

The winds come tumbling from the hills, 

Like boys at play ; 
Like happy girls the mountain rills 

Dance on their way. 

The trees wear coats of golden brown ; 

Each breeze that stirs 
From chestnut boughs is bringing down 

The ripened burrs. 

Then, when abroad the spirits flit, 

Unheard, unseen, 
A night of revels they permit . . . 

All Hallowe'en. 

For apples in a tub you duck, 

Or seek to know 
The spell to bring you love and luck 

From candle's glow; 

Or in a shadowed looking-glass 

Your future lot 
You may behold behind you pass. 

Or you may not ! 

A merry month indeed, not sober. 
I ought to know, for I 'm October ! 

November : 

November 's the month for whole-hearted thanks- 
giving; 

For thanks for your being, and thanks for your 
living ; 

For plenty to-day, and enough for to-morrow ; 

For freedom from sorrow, or hope beyond sor- 
row. 

And if for naught else are you thankful, remem- 
ber: 

BE thankful you STILL ARE ALIVE IN NOVEMBER.' 



240 



FATHER TIME AND HIS CHILDREN 



December : 

There are snowdrifts by the wayside, there is 
writing on the pane, 

Where Jack Frost has left a message about win- 
ter come again ; 



Months: Gobbles us up! 

Time: And every year, despite my pain, 

They bob up again ! 
Months: Bob up again! 

Time : Throughout the world, in every clime ; 

And so 't will be, to the End of Time ! 



There 's that tingHng in the blood and there are Months: Throughout the world, in every clime ; 
sleighbells in the air, ^"^ '° ^ ^^" b^' t° the End of Time ! 



There is coasting down the hills, and slipping, 

sliding, ev'rywhere ! 
There 's a stocking by the chimney hung on 

Xmas eve because 
There 's a chance you '11 have a visit from our 

old friend Santa Claus. 

There 's a bright star in the Heavens that pro- 
claimed a wondrous birth 

When the Chosen Child of Children brought his 
Christmas day to earth ; 

There are mistletoe and holly in the woods to 

deck the hall, 
Here 's the Christmas spirit wishing Merry 

Christmas to you all I 

Time (blows a blast) : 
What, ho I Stand forth, all ye, my children ! 

(The Months reappear) 

Time: 
These are my children, my children dear. 

Months: 

Yes, we are the Twelve Months of the Year ! 
Time: Every year, for a bite and sup, 
I gobble them up ! 



(Dance and sing) 

With our Play days, jolly days; heydays and 

holidays I 
May days and mirth days ; gala days 

and birthdays ! 
Olden days; new days; golden days 

and blue days ! 
Work days and school-days; shirk days, 

April Fool days ! 
Sundays and sleek days; wonder days 

and week-days ! 
Sundays and Mondays; rather under- 
done days ! 
Mondays and Tuesdays; please-to-pay- 

your-dues days ! 
Tuesdays and Wednesdays; women's 

days and men's days ! 
Wednesdays and Thursdays; kittens' 

days and curs' days I 
Thursdays and Fridays ; up-and-do-or- 

die days ! 
Fridays and Saturdays; mad-as-a-hat- 

ter days ! 

(They form a ring about Time and dance round 
him, repeating the song, while Time in the center 
repeats his dance and song, "Quick time and 
slack time," &c.) 

CURTAIN. 





Vol. XXXVI.- 



'■HERE THEY COME IN THE SLEIGH! AND THEY 
STAY THROUGH THE HOLIDAYS!" 
-31. 241 



■RE 10 



THE SPRING GLEANING 



(.-is told by Qucefi Crosspatch) 



BY FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT 



The moment after I exclaimed "I shall lose 
my temper in a minute!" I suddenly remembered 
I had n't any Temper to lose, because I had lost 



JJ 



'^'^ 




"There is another frost," she said. "The prim- 
roses will never come at all." 

I flew on to her arm and called out to her as 
loud as I could : 

"Don't be frightened. I will manage it somehow." 

And of course she felt as if she had had a 
cheerful thought, and a smile began to curl up 
her nice red mouth. 

"I won't be frightened," she said. "I will be- 
lieve that somehow they will come up — even if 
Fairies have to come and pull them." 

You see the truth is that all the nice thoughts 
that children have — the really nice things— are 
things that Fairies tell them. 

She went down on her knees and began to push 
the dead leaves away from a place where she saw 
a bit of green sticking up. The bit of green was 



JANE ANN BIGGS. 

the only one I had just before I decided to write 
The Troubles of Queen Silverbell and I had never 
found him since. So as I felt that I must lose 
something I lost my pocket-handkerchief instead. 
I flew over to the Primrose World in such a hurry 
that I was quite out of breath when I got there. It 
was covered with dead leaves and the dead leaves 
were covered with frost and you could not be- 
lieve it had ever even heard of a primrose. I 
.stamped about and stamped about. Of course I 
knew that if this sort of thing went on I never, 
never could get it ready in time for Bunch and 
the party and Jane Ann Biggs. 

And while I was stamping about I heard a 
rustling of the dead leaves and there was Bunch 
herself, and I could see she was neither laughing, 
nor was just going to laugh, and she had not just the new leaf of a primrose and she uncovered it 
finished laughing either. She did not look like and found two or three more — very little and 
Bunch in the least. very cold. 

242 




f' 



' SHE WENT DOWN ON HER KNEES AND BEGAN TO 
PUSH THE DEAD LEAVES AWAY." 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



243 



"Oh ! you darling fings," she said, talking baby 
talk to them. "You darling fings!" And she 
stooped and kissed them and kissed them. "Do 




" ' IT IS so COLD, SHE SIGHED. 

come up," she said, patting the earth round them 
with her warm Httle hand. "Do come up. Try 
and try and try. Jane Ann Biggs does so want you." 
I could not stand it a minute longer. I left her 
and flew across the Primrose World and into 
the wood on the other side of the stream. I 
alighted on the top of a tree and put my golden 
trumpet to my lips and called out just as I did 
that day on the Huge Green Hill when I was re- 
forming the Cozy Lion. This was what I called 
out this time : 

Green Workers! Green Workers 1 

Halloa! 
Green Workers ! Green Workers ! 

Ho! Ho! 
Come East and come West, 
Come o'er the hill crest, 
Come ready for friend 

Or for foe ! 
Come ready to polish 

.And sweep! 
Come ready to crawl 

And to creep! 
Come ready to sing 
While you clean for the Spring, 
Come ready to bound. 

Hop and leap! 



Li two minutes the air was al-l green and buzzy 
with them. They came this way and that, and 
that way and this. They came in flocks, they 
came in clouds, they nearly knocked each other 
down they came so fast. The fact is some of 
them had guessed they were being called to do 
something for Bunch and they all liked her. 

The wood was full of them, they crowded to- 
gether on the ground and hung in clusters from 
the branches. And they all chanted together : 

All steady — all steady 

Fly we. 
All ready — all ready 

You see! 
From East and from West 
To do your behest 

Whatever it chances to be. 

I could not wait a moment. I told them the 
whole story about Bunch and Jane Ann Biggs 
and the Primrose party. They got so excited 
that the wood buzzed as if fifty million beehives 
had been upset in it. 

"What shall we do ! What shall we do ! 
This is work for us — s-s-s-s-s-s-s- !" they said, in 
their tiny voices. 




«■ 



A FROST IMP. 



"This is what you will do," I answered. 
"Never until the Primrose World is ready must 
you go to bed. You must stay up and watch 



244 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



[Jan., 




-■ It i 








w^ 



" MY GREEN WORKERS SPREAD OUT THEIR LINE 
FACE TO FACE WITH THEM." 

every single night. Then when the Frost Imps 
come out to do their work you must all gather 
in a long line behind them and sweep off the 
frost as fast as they put it on. At this time of 
the year they are very tired of their winter work, 
and they really want to go to bed for their sum- 
mer sleep. If you undo their work they will get 
discouraged and not come any more. The great 
thing is that Frost Imps cannot turn round be- 
cause their necks are made of icicles and would 
break, and they won't know what is happening 
behind them. They can only see when the army 
is turned to march home." 

The Green Workers shrieked and laughed and 
rolled about with delight. They were not only 
fond of Bunch, but they did not like the Frost 
Imps because they interfered with fun. 

That night they were ready dressed in their 
warmest green smocks, and carrying their 
brooms. We were all hiding in the Primrose World 
when Bunch came out to look at it. She had on 
her little red cloak and hood and was mournful. 

"It is so cold," she sighed. "I am afraid there 
will be another frost to-night." 

If she could have heard Fairies she would 
have heard the Green Workers just squeal as 
they rolled about under the dead leaves and 
thought of the fun they were going to have. 



When it was quite dark and every one was in 
bed and the Primrose World was as still as still 
could be, we heard the Frost Imps creeping 
along. They came to the top of the slope and 
stretched their whole army in a long line. Then 
their general gave his orders in an icy voice, say- 
ing slowly : 

Frost, frost Liegin to freeze 

Grass and moss and buds and trees, 

Leave nothing peeping. 
Pinch, nip and bind them fast, 
Till each bud when you have passed 

Stiff and cold lies sleeping. 

Then the army marched forward and began. 
They worked as hard as they could, fastening the 
ice crystals on everything and even putting ice 
sheaths on some poor things. But my Green 
Workers were spread out in a line behind them 
— a Green Worker behind each Frost Imp, and 
as fast as an Imp covered a bud, or a twig, or a 
peeping green primrose leaf, the Green Workers 
behind him swept off the crystals or broke off the 
ice' sheaths. I never saw them work quite as 
fast. They were so excited and hot that they 
melted ice crystals just by coming near them. 
They thought it would be such fun when the 
Imps turned round to march home and found all 
their work undone — and serve them right ! 
They hopped and rushed about so that they made 
a noise and as the Imps could not turn their icicle 
necks they began to feel frightened. They knew 
something must be behind them and they could 
not tell wkai 
was going to 
happen to them. 

When they 
were nearly at 
the foot of, the 
hill they began 
to make little 
groans and 

sighs, and at 
last all along the 
line you could 
hear them say- 
ing this in a kind 
of creepy chant: 



What is the mean- 
ing of this? 
Behind ns some- 
thing rustles. 
What is the mean- 
ing of t/tis ? 

Behind us something bustles. 
What is the meaning of this? 
Behind us something hustles. 

It 's something very queer and very bold. 




PUTTING HOT-WATER BAGS AT 
THE ROOTS OF PRIMROSES. 



igog.] 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



245 



What is tlie meaning of this? 
Behind us things are sweeping. 

IV/iat is the meaning of 
this? 
Behind us things are 
leaping. 
What is the meaning of 
ihis? 




CL. 



Green Tuggers. The Delvers brought their tiny 
spades and dug the earth loose round all the 
roots, and the Tuggers brought their ropes and 
fastened them round every least bit of a leaf they 
saw, and pulled and tugged, and tugged and 
pulled until they dragged them up into the light 
so that they grew in spite of themselves. 

But there was such a short time to do it in and 
Bunch and the Bensons sometimes looked so 
frightened, and one day they brought a letter 
with them and it was from Jane Ann Biggs and 
And by that time this was what it said: 

they had reached the 

bottom of the hill and 

wheeled round all in 



Behind us things are 
creeping. 
It really makes MY 
BLOOD RUN 
COLD! 



Dere mis 

wil the primrosses bee reddy 

Jane anji bi^s. 



a line ready to march 
home. And there 
were my Green Work- 



It was bad spelling but Jane Ann had never 
been to school. There was only a week more to 



FAIRY TUGGERS HELPING THE snread out iu //;^z> work aud I should nearly have gone crazy, only 

SPRING PLANTS OUT OF _'^ opii-avi j a j j 

THE GROUND. Hnc facc to 

face with 
them. And their work was all undone 
and it startled them so and made them 
so hot that they gave one wild shriek 
and their icicle necks broke, their heads 
fell off, and the whole army melted 
away — General Freeze and all. 

After that night we never left the 
primroses a minute. They had been 
cold so long that they were half dead 
with sleep. So the Green Workers 
never stopped going round from one 
to the other to knock at their doors 
and tell them they must wake up. 
They told them about Bunch and the 
party and Jane Ann Biggs. They 
called it out, they sang it, they shouted 
it. They knocked on their doors, they 
thumped on their doors, they kicked 
on their doors. The primroses were 
not really lazy, but the cold had stupe- 
fied them, and when they were wak- 
ened they just drawled out, "In a 
min-ute-" and fell asleep again, and the 
Green Workers had to thump and kick 
on their doors again. When they did 
waken at last they were so stiff that 
they could hardly move. It took them 
so long to push a green leaf through 
the earth and when they got one 
through they could not get it any 
further. 

Bunch used to come down with the 
little Bensons and say: 

"They are so slow in growing. I 
never saw them so slow. Look what weenty leaves." Fairies never do. And suddenly one night I 

So we brought out the Green Delvers and the thought of hot-water bags. 




THE LETTER FROM JA,NE ANN BIGGS. 



246 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



[Jan., 




"BIRDS BEGAN TO SIT ON BOUGHS TOGETHER. 

"Get two or three million fairy hot-water 
bags," I said to my head Green Workers, Skip 
and Trip and Flip and Nip. "Get them at once." 

They got them before sunset and all that night 
the whole army of Green Workers ran from one 
clump of primroses to the other putting the hot- 
water bags close to the roots and keeping them 
almost as warm as if they had been in a green- 
house. The next morning the sun came out and 
kept them warm all day and more green leaves 
and more green leaves began to show above the 
earth every few minutes. 

"Hooray! Hooray!" the Workers shouted all 
together. "Now we have got them." 

The next night we used more hot-water bags 
and the next day the sunshine was warmer still 
and the green leaves thrust themselves up on 
every side and began to uncurl. 

Dear me ! how we did work for four nights 
and how the primroses did work in the daytime. 
And on the fourth day Bunch and all the little 
Bensons came out together and in two minutes 
after they bent down to look at the clumps of 
green leaves they sprang up shouting : 

"There are buds ! There are buds ! There are 
buds! And lots of them are yellow!" 



They ran about up and down the Primrose 
World, darting here and there and screaming for 
joy and at last they joined hands and danced and 
danced in a ring round a huge cluster which had 
on it a dozen wide-open pale yellow primroses. 

"I believe the Fairies did it," said Bunch. "I 
just believe it !" 

"I just believe it !" 

There was such excitement that the very trees 
got interested and began pushing out leaves and 
leaves as fast as they could, everything began to 
push out leaves, birds began to sit on boughs to- 
gether and propose to each other with the loud- 
est trills and twitters, dormice waked up and rab- 
bits and squirrels began to frisk about and whisk 
tails. Old Cawker Rook shuffled on his surplice 
and fussed about with his book in such a flurry 
to do something that he married birds who 
had n't asked him — married them the minute he 
saw them. He was quite out of breath with mar- 
rying, and on the fifth day he accidentally mar- 
ried a squirrel to a lady woodpecker just because 
they chanced to be on the same tree and he was 
in such a hurry that he dropped his spectacles 
and did not know what he was doing. If I had 




"MRS. \VI(;f;i.F.s's i;KAM)s()X HKOrGHT HKK 
IN A WHEELBARROW." 

not been on the spot to immarry them at once^ 
it would have been most unfortunate, for as it 



igOQ.] 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



247 



was the lady woodpecker was so provoked that Then the village children came to help and ev- 
she nearly pecked the squirrel's eyes out. ery one had a hasket and they picked and picked 

and picked and picked and picked 
and picked and picked and Daddy 
Dimp came and picked and picked 
and picked and picked and Mrs. 
Wiggles's grandson brought her in 
a wheelbarrow and when she sat 
down and began to pick I made her 
■ forget all about her legs and she 
stood up and found that they were 
quite well and she need never be 
bedridden or need never grumble 
any more. 

My Green Workers picked as 
well. The children could not under- 
stand why their baskets filled so 
soon. 

It was the most beautiful party 
that I ever went to. The vicarage 
cook made perfectly delightful 
things to eat and the vicarage house- 
maid and the boy who weeds the 
garden brought them out and 




"THE VICARAGE HOUSEMAID AND THE BOY WHO 
WEEDS THE GARDEN BROUGHT THEM OUT." 

Well, on two days before Primrose Day the 
Primrose World was a sight to behold. It had 
seventeen million more primroses on it then than 
it had ever had before and they were all twice 
as big and twice as lovely. 

When Jane Ann Biggs came and was brought 
out by Bunch and the little Bensons her eyes 
looked like saucers and she sat very suddenly 
flat down on the ground. 

"Miss," said Jane Ann Biggs to Bunch, "is 
this 'ere the earth or 'ave I died an' gone to 
'eving?" 

Bunch and the Bensons pulled her up and 
made her dance round with them. 

"No !" they shouted. "You 're alive ! You 're 




"THE VICAR ARRANGED ABOUT SENDING THE 
PRIMROSES TO TOWN." 



alive! You 're really alive! And this is the spread them on beds of primroses and_every- 
Primrose World." body was so hungry and happy that Jane Ann 



248 



THE SPRING CLEANING 



Biggs clutched Bunch's sleeve twelve times and 
said : 

"Oh! Miss! Are yer sure it 's not 'eving?" 
The vicar had arranged about sending the 
primroses to town in hampers so that they would 
be all fresh in the morning. He was such a nice 
vicar and only preached quite short sermons and 
they were only about things you can really do — 
like being cheerful and loving one another. 

So hampers and hampers of primroses went to 
town and Jane Ann Biggs sold them to men in 
Covent Garden Market and kept a hamper to 
sell at big houses herself. She really made quite 



a little fortune— for a thin flower girl. And the 
best of it was that she and Bunch and the Ben- 
sons were such friends that it was arranged that 
she should come to the Primrose World every 
single Spring so she would have it to look for- 
ward to all the year. 

Now that 's the story of just ONE of my Spring 
Cleanings, and if it docs not show you how much 
I have to do and how nothing could happen with- 
out me, you must be rather stupid. 

QUEEN CROSSPATCH. 





WHAT WE CAN 



DAVIS 



A NEir YEAR'S HINT 



'\ Who was that French boy that made his servant 
wake him every morning with the cry, "Rise, 
Monsieur le Comte, you have great things to do 
to-day!" The world has forgotten his name, and 
it is probable that he never did any great thing in 
it, but we may be sure that the call drove him every 
day to do many little good things for which the 
world was better and happier then, and which, 
no doubt, are working in it like leaven for good 
to this day. 

Why should not each one of us waken every 
morning remembering that though the new day 
may give us no chance for splendid achievement 
—no line to carry to a sinking ship— no word 
to speak which shall uplift a nation— there will 
be plenty of chances in it before night to give to 
our neighbors fun, courage, or strength ? We 
cannot, perhaps, write a poem like Keats's 
"Nightingale" ; we cannot discover radium ; but 
we can fill our windows with flowers to bid a 
cheerful good morning fo passers-by. 

The old Puritan doctrine that piety meant self- 
torture and gloom is dying out among us. People 
of all sects are finding out that our Father has 
given us a beautiful home, and that He wishes 
us to rejoice in it and in Him, and to help our 
neighbors to rejoice with us. Even Isaac Watts, 
far back in his gloomy day, insisted that "Relig- 
ion never was designed to make our pleasures 
less." 

"But," argues some girl who has neither 
beauty, health, nor social position to give her in- 
fluence, "what can I do to make the world bet- 
ter and happier?" 

A woman living a few years ago in a misera- 
ble little village planted in front of her house a 
flower garden. When her neighbors crowded 
round to admire it she persuaded them to go and 
do likewise. She gave them seeds, she helped 
them to dig and weed, she kept up the work until 
they achieved success and were able to send flow- 
ers to the county fair. The poor-spirited women 
Vol. XXXVI. -32. 249 



in other villages became wise in seeds and bulbs 
instead of scandalous gossip. The men, for 
shame, cleaned and drained the streets. The lit- 
tle woman is dead and forgotten, but her work 
will be a help to many generations. 

An Eton boy, Quintin Hogg, appalled by the 
misery of mighty, dreadful London, got a barrel 
and a board, a couple of candles and some old 
books, and started a school at night, under Lon- 
don Bridge. He had two wharf-rats as his first 
scholars. When he died, hundreds of thousands 
of poor men put a black band on their arms. 
They had been trafned in the many polytechnic 
schools which had grown out of the barrel and 
boards — not only in Great Britain but in her 
colonies as well. 

In short, we may be sure when we waken each 
morning, that God has filled our hands with good 
seeds, which if we plant them will go on yielding 
fruit throughout the ages. 

The best word which St. Nicholas can speak 
on New Year's morning to the young folk who 
read it is, Make the Best of your Selves; yes, 
and help all you can. 

Whoever you are— wise or foolish, rich or 
poor— God sent you into His world, as He has 
sent every other human being, to help the men 
and women in it, to make them better and hap- 
pier. If you don't do that, no matter what your 
powers may be, you are mere lumber, a worth- 
less bit of the world's furniture. A Stradiva- 
rius, if it hangs dusty and dumb upon the wall, 
is not of as much real value as a kitchen poker 
which is used. Before you in your journey wait 
hundreds of human beings with whom you must 
have relations, whom you must either urge en 
or hinder on their way. It is your business to 
use your money, or beauty, or wit, or skill or 
whatever good thing God has given you, for 
their help. Why not begin every morning with 
the French boy's thought— "I have great things 
to do to-day !" 




CHRISTMAS SWEETS 

BY CHARLOTTE BREWSTER JORDAN 



1. CHRISTMAS CONSERVE. 

2. SHERBET SURPRISE. 



3. MOCK CREAM-WALNUTS. 



4. NOVICES' NUT-CRISPS. 

5. STAR SPICE-SNAPS. 



C^h/v-^'^h^ 









CHRISTMAS CONSERVE 

Take oranges and lemon, too, 

Remove the juice and pulp 
And add the rinds, grated most fine, 

Or by machine ground up. 

Next, put through the grinding machine 

(Or chop in wooden bowl,) 
The walnuts and the raisins good 

And almonds, blanched when whole; 

Dissolve the sugar in a pint 

Of excellent grape-juice; 
Then add to it the other things. 

And gradually reduce 



By simmering all quite slowly down 

Till like a marmalade. 
Put into glasses, seal, and place 

Within the pantry's shade. 

With Christmas roast or toothsome game 

This conserve is delicious. 
Or, thinly spread on buttered bread, 

At tea-time proves propitious. 

SHERBET SURPRISE 

Fill sherbet glasses just half full 

Of orange and banana sliced. 
With pineapple or winter grapes 

In tiny pieces diced. 

Sprinkle with powdered sugar fine. 
And grape-juice, clear and bright, 

And cover well with lemon ice 
To hide the fruit from sight. 

Smooth over until leveled well 

With silver spoon or knife. 
And note your guests' surprised delight 

When fruit-depths come to life. 

MOCK CREAM- WALNUTS 

Pieces of Philadelphia cream-cheese, 
'Twixt halves of walnuts pressed. 

Make daintiest accompaniment 
And add to salad zest. 



250 



CHRISTMAS SWEETS 



251 









NOVICES' NUT-CRISPS 

The youngest reader in this club 
Can make these cakes with ease ; 

They win a welcome everywhere 
And always seem to please. 

First, beat the egg up briskly, 

Then add the sugar brown, 
And cup of salted nut-meats, 

And stir them up and down. 

Have shallow pans all ready. 
Just slightly greased and cool, 

And spread therein the mixture 
As thin as a foot-rule. 

And then be sure, be very sure. 

Your oven 's not too hot ; 
Quite moderate heat thin cakes require, 

Or else you '11 burn the lot. 

Near twenty minutes let it bake ; 

Then, just before 't is cooled. 
Cut quickly into sightly squares 

With a good pie-wheel ruled. 

Or, easier still, grease slightly 

An inverted dripping-pan, 
And drop the mixture from a spoon, 
And little round cakes plan. 



s>d:^-/ci-t/ yf2^a^^ yfna^ 






STAR SPICE-SNAPS 

Soften the butter and the lard. 
Dissolve them in molasses rich. 

Put all the dry ingredients 
Together in a separate dish. 

Then slowly in the syrup stir. 

Dissolve the soda in a cup 
In which a little water is 

And in the mixture stir it up. 

Knead well, and roll upon the board 

Till it is very thin ; 
With cake-cutter then make the stars, 

Or rounds with biscuit-tin. 

Bake in a moderate oven till 

A rich, inviting brown ; 
When cool and crisp and snappy, 

They 're bound to win renown. 



Note: At any large house-furnishing store cake-cutters 
can be made to order from original sketches. Christmas-y 
shapes— little stockings, stars, Santa Clauses, or trees, add 
to the holiday fun. 






ULETIDE in Jolli- 
popolis 
Was a gay and festive 
time. 
The people of this 

metropolis 
Were a busy and jolly 
populace, 

And the bells were 
all a-chime. 
Everybody was bent on 
important affairs, 
The shops showed most tempting and beautiful 
wares; 

Happychaps and Skiddoodles 
Spent money by oodles, 
As if they were real millionaires. 
The spirit of Christmas pervaded the city, 
And of course they appointed a gen'ral commit- 
tee, 

For a great celebration. 
And fine decoration, 
With everything novel and pretty. 
Now, right in the midst of the city there stood 
A tall, handsome fir-tree. Said Toots : " 'T would 

be good 
To decorate that for a big Christmas Tree." 
"Out of doors?" with a shiver, asked old Jmi- 
Jam-Mee. 

But they laughed at his shudder; 
And 'Rastus said: "Brudder, 
Ef you '11 get a fur coat, you '11 be warm as a 

toast. 
Look at me ! I 's wropt up, twel I 's ready to 
roast." 

And Toots said that he 
Would hang on the tree, 
A fur coat as a gift to cold Jim-Jam-Mee. 
Old General Happychap then was invited 
To represent Santa Claus. He was delighted. 
Tailor Cricket made for him a marvelous rig, 
Of red plush trimmed with ermine. They 
stuffed him out big. 



And added a white false beard and a wig ! 
Well, as you may know, 
He was a great show ! 

For General Happychap did things up brown. 

And the night before Christmas he drove around 
town 

With a pack on his back, and bells jingling clear 

On his miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer ! 

(The reindeer were rabbits, with harness sup- 
plied; 

Artificial horns Toots to their long ears had 
tied!) 




CHRISTMAS SHOPPING IN JOLLIPOPOLIS. 

Well, this Happychap Santa Claus did as he 

should ; 
He went to the houses of all who were good. 



THE HAPPYCHAPS 



253 




GENERAL HAPPYCHAP AS SANTA CLAUS. 



He flew down the chimneys,— fine gifts he be- 
stowed 
(Of course he took with him a very big load.) 
But he stared with surprise 
At the number and size 
Of old Daddy-long-legs' extremely long hose. 
And he said, "Goodness me! I just can not fill 

those !" 
Then a happy thought struck him. He said, 

"What 's the odds?" 
And he filled those long stockings with eight 

fishing-rods ! 
Most Skiddoodles hung up about three or four 

pairs, 
And as they were short, little things would fill 
theirs. 

But 't was saucy, indeed. 
Of old Centipede, 
To hang up fifty pairs ! then go calmly to sleep. 
"Whew!" exclaimed Santa Claus: "I must say 
this is steep !" 
Skiddoodles, you know are humorous folk. 
And Br'er Spider put up a practical joke. 
To catch Santa Claus he thought would be fun. 
So in his own chimney, a fine web he spun. 
And when down the flue the General dropped. 
By the tangling web he was suddenly stopped ! 
His arms and his legs, his feet and his hands. 
Were all twisted up in the long snarling strands. 
And while in the web he twisted and wriggled 
Old Br'er Spider just stood by and giggled, 
And laughed at his victim. 
To think how he 'd tricked him ! 
Then he said : "Something handsome 
By way of a ransom, 
I '11 accept from your pack, and then I '11 assist 
Your noble self out of this tangle and twist. 
"Take your pick of the pack!" the General cried, 
"Take whatever you want, and some more things 
beside." 
The old spider did as the General bid ; 
Then he helped him get out of the tangling ends, 
And they said "Merry Christmas !" and parted 
good friends. 

Next morning, with good-will the sun fairly 
beamed. 



Jollipopolis like a big Christmas card seemed. 
The houses were glittering with ice and with 

snow. 
And decked with red holly and white mistletoe. 
And of holly-leaves green, 
Wreaths and garlands were seen. 




THE HOUSES WERE DECKED WITH RED HOLLY 
AND WHITE MISTLETOE. 

Till Toots said : "I think that our Jollipopolis, 
Might, on this occasion, be called Hollypopolis !" 
Skipper Happychap's wonderful sea-going home, 




JOLLIPOPOLIS HAS A BIG CHRISTMAS TREE. 
254 



THE HAPPYCHAPS 



255 



Was n't tossing about on the waves and the foam ; 
But was drawn up on shore, 
And garlanded o'er, 

With gay decorations. While from masts and 
spars, 

Long icicles hung, and glittered like stars. 

In the evening the people all gathered in glee 

Round the wonderful, beautiful, big Christmas 
Tree. 

When the breeze blew the branches, the little 
bells tinkled; 

And a firefly or glowworm on every twig twin- 
kled. 

The people applauded with rapturous cries, 

And the Rah Rah Boys' cheers fairly rang to 
the skies. 

Then bright faces glowed 
As the gifts were bestowed; 

And appropriate presents made perfectly happy 

Every Skiddoodle and each 
Happychappy. 







"OLD CALEB MOUSE 
RECEIVED SIX EARS OF CORN." 

Toots had a magnificent new motor-horn ; 

And old Caleb Mouse received six ears of corn ; 

The Eskimo Happychaps all had dried herrings ; 

The chipmunks, small bags of choice applepar- 
ings; 

The Figis and Hottentots all had new beads ; 

The Skiddoodle bugs reveled in real pumpkin 
seeds; 

The woodpeckers all returned voluble thanks 

For their Extra Delicious Hickory planks. 

And another kind thought of good old Kriss 
Kringle's 

Was to give to the wood-wasps some well-flav- 
ored shingles. 

There were bundles of old "Daily Buzzes" at hand 

For the bookworms, who thought they were 
perfectly grand ! 

And Raggledy Happychap had some new rags. 

For his old ones were nothing but tatters and tags. 
New lamp-chimneys bright 
For the fireflies' soft light, 



And shades for the glowworms of soft green 

and white. 
Old Big Chief Dewdrop received some new 

feathers, 




w if 



" NEW LAMP-CHIMNEYS BRIGHT 

FOR THE FIREFLIES' SOFT LIGHT." 

Which would stand (it was warranted) all sorts 
of weathers. 

And Sir Horace had white spats and new patent 
leathers. 

Then Mr. and Mrs. 

Gray Squirrel said: "This is 

The best gift of all!" As Toots handed them 
out 

A bag of shelled chestnuts, an answering shout 

Arose from the little gray squirrels, and they 

On the beautiful nuts were soon nibbling away. 

Strange presents delighted the Happychaps for- 
eign : 

Old Paddy had Shamrock, and Duncan a sporran ; 

A fan and a parasol did for the Jap ; 

And wooden shoes pleased the Dutch Happychap. 




A SURPRISE FOR MR. AND MRS. MOUSE. 

And large five-pound boxes of Fyler's Best 

Bird-seed 
Were given to birds, and to all who preferred 

seed: 



256 



THE HAPPYCHAPS 



Then just in the midst of the gay celebration, 
The big tree caught fire ! There was great con- 
sternation, 
For every one feared a bad conflagration. 
But ere the flames spread, 
A messenger sped, 
And the V^olunteer Fire Brigade rushed into view. 
And put out the flames in a minute or two. 
'Rastus Happychap always was getting off jokes, 
And he perpetrated a comical hoax. 
He had a big box — no one knew what was in it ; 
When Caleb Mouse asked him, he said: "Wait a 
minute ! 

You mice all sit so, in a straight little row, 
Now watch very closely, you '11 see a fine show !" 
The mice in a trice,— 
Sat stiller than mice. 
And waited to see 
What the fine show might be. 

"Now !"' 'Rastus 
said, 

"Watch!" 
Then he loosened 
the catch, 
And up from the 
box sprang a 
great big cat's 
head ! 
The way those 
small mice 

squeaked, 
and scam- 
pered and 
fled! 
Old 'Rastus, 
he 

laughed 
till they 
feared he 
would 
choke ; 
And, wip- 
ing his 
eyes, he 
said, "That was a joke !" 
Then every one helped to bring in the Yule log, 
From the tiniest ant to the portliest frog. 

They pulled and they tugged, 

They lifted and lugged. 

They toted and dragged, — 

Not one of them lagged. 
But every one helped, as the General com- 
manded, 
And at last the great log was successfully landed. 
In the wide fireplace of the big Town Hall 
It was set ablaze and enjoyed by all ; 




A MISCHIEVOUS HAPPYCHAP 



As they gladly obeyed the General's call 

To dance at the Christmas ball. 
There was laughter and feasting and merry cheer. 
And mistletoe hung from the chandelier, 

And the ladies fair, 

If they stood there. 
Were apt to get kissed, but they did n't care. 
At midnight the boar's head was brought in. 
And then the merriment rose to a din. 




"AT MIDNIGHT THE BOAR'S HEAD WAS BROUGHT IN." 

When at last it appeared 
Then every one cheered 
And all the assemblage just shouted and laughed— 
And when it was served, and wassail was quaffed, 
Happychaps and Skiddoodles found it was late, 
And they started for home at a double-quick 

rate. 
But every one cried, as he flew out of sight, 
"Merry Christmas to all ! And to all a good- 
night!" . 




VANITY 




Vol.. XXXVI.— 3: 



"Big bows, you know, are quite the style, 

Said Mary's little kitty ; 
"Now who would ever dream that I 

Could lock so very pretty !" 



1 



ni5TDRIOBOYnOODS 

^m/PEUT- SARGENT- HOLLAND 



VI. CHARLES DICKENS: THE BOY OF THE LONDOxNT STREETS 



The little fellow who worked all day long in the 
tumble-down old house by the river Thames past- 
ing oil-paper covers on boxes of blacking, fell ill 
one afternoon. One of the workmen, a big man 
named Bob Fagin, made him lie down on a pile 
of straw in the corner and placed blacking-bottles 
filled with hot water beside him to keep him 
warm. There he lay until it was time for the 
men to stop work, and then his friend Fagin, 
looking down upon the small boy of twelve, asked 
if he felt able to go home. The boy got up look- 
ing so big-eyed, white-cheeked, and thin, that the 
man put his arm about his shoulder. 

"Never mind, Bob, I think I 'm all right now," 
said the boy. "Don't you wait for me; go on 
home." 

"You ain't fit to go alone, Charley. I 'm comin' 
along with you." 

" 'Deed I am. Bob. I 'm feelin" as spry as a 
cricket." The little fellow threw back his shoul- 
ders and headed for the stairs. 

Fagin, however, insisted on keeping him com- 
pany ; and so the two, the shabbily-dressed under- 
sized youth, and the big strapping man came out 
into the murky London twilight and took their 
way over the Blackfriars Bridge. 

"Been spendin' your money at the pastry-shops, 
Charley, again ? That 's what was the matter 
with you, I take it." 

The boy shook his head. "No, Bob. I 'm 
trying to save. When I get my week's money I 
put it away in a bureau drawer, wrapped in six 
little paper packages with a day of the week on 
each one. Then I know just how much I 've got 
to live on, and Sundays don't count. Sometimes 
I do get hungry, though ; so hungry ! Then I 
look in at the windows and play at being rich." 

They crossed the bridge, the boy's big eyes 
seeming to take note of everything, the man, 
duller-witted, listening to his chatter. Several 
times the boy tried to say good night, but Fagin 



would not be shaken off. "I 'm goin' to see you 
to your door, Charley lad," he said each time. 

At last they came into a little street near the 
Southwark Bridge. The boy stopped by the steps 
of a house. "Here 't 's. Bob. Good night. It 
was good of you to take the trouble for me." 

"Good night, Charley." 

The boy ran up the steps^ and, as he noticed 
that Fagin still stopped, he pulled the door-bell. 
Then the man went on down the street. When 
the door opened the boy asked if Mr. Fagin lived 
there, and being told that he did not, said he must 
have made a mistake in the house. Turning 
about he saw that his friend had disappeared 
around a corner. With a little smile of triumph 
he made off in the other direction. 

The door of the Marshalsea Prison stood open 
like a great black mouth. The boy, tired with his 
long tramp, was glad to reach it and to run in. 
Climbing several long flights of stairs he entered 
a room on the top story where he found his fam- 
ily, his father, a tall pompous-looking man 
dressed all in black, his mother, an amiable but 
extremely fragile woman, and a small brother 
and sister seated at a table, eating supper. The 
room was very sparsely furnished, the only bright 
spot in it was a small fire in a rusty grate, flanked 
by two bricks to prevent burning too much fuel. 

There was a vacant place at the table for 
Charles, and he sat down upon a stool and ate as 
ravenously as though he had not tasted food for 
months. Meanwhile the tall man at the head of 
the table talked solemnly to his wife at the other 
end, using strange long words which none of the 
children could understand. 

Supper over, Mr. and Mrs. Dickens (for that 
was their name) and the two younger children 
sat before the tiny fire, and Mr. Dickens talked of 
how he might raise enough money to pay his 
debts, leave the prison, and start fresh in some 
new business. Charles had heard these same 



258 



HISTORIC BOYHOODS 



259 



plans 
fore, 
book 



from his 
and so h 
which he 



father's lips a thousand times be- 
e took from the cupboard an old 
had bought at a little second-hand 



before, a small 
tattered copy of "Don 
Quixote," and read it by 
the light of a tallow 
candle in the corner. 

The lines soon blurred before 
the boy's tired eyes, his head 
nodded, and he was fast asleep. 
He was awakened by his father's deep voice. 
"Time to be leaving, Charles, my son. You 
have not forgotten that my pecuniary situa- 
tion prevents my choosing the hour at which 
I shall close the door of my house. Fortu- 
nately it is a predicament which I trust will 
soon be obviated to our mutual satisfaction." 

The small fellow stood up, shook hands 
emnly with his father, kissed his mother. 



through a dismal labyrinth of the dark and nar- 
row streets of old London. Sometimes a rough 
voice or an evil face would frighten him, and he 
would take to his heels and run as fast as he 
could. When he passed the house where he had 
asked for Mr. Fagin he chuckled to himself; he 
would not have had his friend know for worlds 
that his family's home was the Marshalsea 
Prison. 

Even that room in the prison, however, was 
more cheerful than the small back-attic chamber 
where the boy fell asleep for the second time that 
night. He slept on a bed made up on the floor, but 
his slumber was no less deep on that account. 

The noise of workmen in a timber-yard un- 
der his window woke Charles when it seemed 
much too dark to be morning. It was, how- 
ever, and he was quickly dressed, and making 




sol- 
and 

took his way out of the great prison. Open doors 
on various landings gave him pictures of many 
peculiar households ; sometimes he would stop as 
though to consider some unusually puzzling face 
or figure. 

Into the night again he went, and wound 



his breakfast from the penny cottage loaf of 
bread, a section of cream-cheese, and small bottle 
of milk, which were all he could afford to buy 
from the man who rented him the room. Then 
he took the roll of paper marked with the name 
of the day from the drawer of his bureau and 
counted out the pennies into his pocket. They 
were not many ; he had to live on seven shillings 



260 



HISTORIC BOYHOODS 



a week, and he tucked them away very carefully 
in a pocket lest he lose them and have to do 
without his lunch. 

He was not yet due at the blacking factory, but 
he hurried away from his room and joined the 
crowd of early morning people already on their 
way to work. He went down the embankment 
along the Thames until he came to a place where 
a bench was set in a corner of a wall. This was 
his favorite lounging-place ; London Bridge was 
just beyond, the river lay in front of him, and he 
was far enough away from people to be secure 
from interruption. As he sat there watching the 
bridge and the Thames a small girl came to join 
him. She was no bigger than he, perhaps a year 
or two older, but her face was already shrewd 
enough for that of a grown-up woman. She was 
the maid-of-all-work at a house in the neighbor- 
hood, and she had fallen into the habit of stop- 
ping to talk for a few moments with the boy on 
her way to work in the morning. She liked to 
listen to his stories. This was his hour for in- 
venting them. He could spin wonderful tales 
about London Bridge, the Tower, and the 
wharves along the river. Sometimes he made up 
stories about the people who passed in front of 
them, and they were such astonishing stories that 
the girl remembered them all day as she worked 
in the house. He seemed to believe them himself ; 
his eyes would grow far away and dreamy and 
his words would run on and on until a neighbor- 
ing clock brought him suddenly back to his own 
position. 

"You do know a heap o' things, don't you?" 
said the little girl, lost in admiration. "I 'd 
rather have a shillin', though, than all the fairy- 
tales in the world." 

"I would n't," said Charles, stoutly. "I 'd 
rather read books than do anything else." 

"You 've got to eat, though," objected his com- 
panion ; "and books won't make you food. 'T ain't 
common sense." She relented in an instant. 
"It 's fun though, Charley Dickens. Good-by till 
to-morrow." 

Charles went on down to the old blacking fac- 
tory by Hungerford Stairs, a ramshackle building 
almost hanging over the river, damp and overrun 
with rats. His place was in a recess of the count- 
ing-room on the first floor, and as he covered the 



bottles with the oil-paper tops and tied them on 
with a string, he could look from time to time 
through a window at the slow coal-barges swing- 
ing down the river. 

There were very few boys about the place. At 
lunch-time he would wander off by himself, and, 
selecting his meal from a careful survey of sev- 
eral pastry-cook's windows, invest his money for 
the day in fancy cakes or a tart. He missed the 
company of friends of his own age. Even Fanny, 
his oldest sister, he only saw on Sundays, when 
she came back to the Marshalsea from the place 
where she worked to spend the day with her 
family. It was only grown-up people that he saw 
most of the time, and they were too busy with 
their own affairs to take much interest in the 
small shabby boy who looked just like any one of 
a thousand other children of the streets. In all the 
men at the factory it was only the big clumsy 
fellow named Fagin who would stop to chat with 
the lad. So it was that Charles was forced to 
make friends with whomever he could, people of 
any age or condition ; and was driven to spend 
much of his spare time roaming about the streets, 
lounging by the river, reading stray books by a 
candle in the prison or in the little attic where he 
slept. It was not a boyhood that seemed to prom- 
ise much. 

In time the boy left the factory and tried being 
a lawyer's clerk, then a reporter, and at last wrote 
a book of his own. The book was "Pickwick Pa- 
pers," and it was so original that people clamored 
for more. Then the young man took note of all 
the strange types of people among whom he had 
lived as a boy, and those days of poverty and 
drudgery were turned to wonderful account be- 
cause he could write of such people and such 
scenes as he remembered them. The little maid- 
of-all-work became the "Marchioness" in the 
"Old Curiosity Shop," Bob Fagin loaned his 
name to "Oliver Twist," and in "David Copper- 
field" we read the story of the small boy who had 
to fight his way through London alone. Those 
days of his boyhood had given him a deep insight 
into human nature, into the humor and pathos of 
other people's lives; and it was that rare insight 
that enabled him to become in time one of the 
greatest of all English writers, Charles Dickens, 
the beloved novelist of the Anglo-Saxon people. 



WINTER 



Snowflakes flutter down from the clouds 
And icicles hang from the eaves. 

But the sleeping flowers never know 
And lie warm beneath the leaves. 



The children polish skates and sleds 

They never find it drear, 
The house is full of spicy smells, 

And Christmas-time draws near. 



FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK 



^YLT^^QWJS^ 




The little boy and the little girl had many friends among the animals. There 
was the rabbit, the turtle, and the owl and the proud blue jay and pretty, cheery 
Robin. The old gray goose and the speckled guinea hen and the quacking duck 
and the strutting rooster and the clucking hens Were their friends, too. So were 
the pigeons and the old black crow, and the little, frisky, scampering squirrel. 




MASTER SQUIRREL BRINGS NUTS FOR A PRESENT. 



FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK 



263 



These friends all knew that early New Year's morning the little girl and the 
little boy would go to the evergreen playhouse for the gift the New Year 
brought. Nobody had ever toid the little girl and the little boy that the New 
Year would bring them a gift, but all children know a great many things that 
nobody tells them. 

The evergreen playhouse was a beautiful circle of evergreen trees, with an 
opening on one side for a door. This playhouse had only the sky for a roof, so 
it was very gay and cheerful. A table for play stood in the center of the house. 




the little boy and the little 

girl find their new 

year's gifts. 



All these bird and animal friends of the little girl and boy thought it would 
be nice to bring New Year's gifts and lay them on the table in the evergreen 
playhouse — fine, good, New Year's gifts. 

So early New Year's morning the little boy and girl went hand in hand to 
the evergreen house and stood quietly inside the door. 

Then they looked at the table and there they saw all the beautiful New Year's 
gifts. 

"Feathers!" shouted the little boy when he saw what some of the birds had 
brought. "Feathers of all sorts of colors! I know what I will do. I am going 
to make an Indian war-bonnet that is a war-bonnet ! — a perfect beauty ! " 



264 



FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK 



"Oh, see the red grains of corn, and the yellow grains of corn!" cried the lit- 
tle girl, as she saw the present the barnyard fowls had brought, "I '11 string 
them for a necklace!" 

"Oh, goody, look at the nuts!" laughed the little boy, as he saw the nuts the 
squirrel had brought; "won't they taste fine!" 

"There 's my littlest doll — the one I lost!" shouted the little girl. The sharp- 
eyed crow had brought it back from his hiding-place. 

"And there 's my lucky penny!" shouted the little boy. For that rascal of a 
crow had brought that back, too. 

So they laughed over their presents until all their animal friends crept in to see. 




THE LITTLE BOY AND THE LITTLE GIRL HAD 
MANY FRIENDS AMONG THE ANIMALS. 



^- 



"Come!" cried the little boy, "We '11 all have a dance around the table !" 

So around they went ; the birds and chickens, the squirrel and the crow, and 
all the friends, squeaking and quacking and crowing and chirping and cawing, 
while the little girl and boy sang "la, la, la," to no tune at all, just because they 
were so happy. 

" Mercy, children !" called their mother who came out to the evergreen house 
to see what was going on, "what are you doing !" 

"Just having fun!" answered the little boy. 

"Oh, the mostest fun, mama!" called the little girl, " with all our friends!" 



A FUNNY FAMILY 




Also*&*s^otted.-pto 

Qeidxe.S5*h&d*dot;s. . . . . 
Q«xdog*]i&d.lots . . . . . . 



Vol. XXXVI. -34-35. 




THE AUTOGRAPHS (TRACKS IN SNOW) OF MINK AND REDPOLLS NEAR THE BROOK. 
Note carefully these '* signs of wild life " on the ice-covered brook, in the foreground, near the tree, and on the right and left banks. 



SIGNS OF WILD LIFE IN WINTER 

Birds and four-footed animals are few now and 
rather seldom seen, for it is not always easy to 
wade through the deep snow in the woods and 
fields for chance glimpses of crossbills, owls, 
redpolls, and snow-buntings, while fur bearers 
generally make quick forays after food and water 
and soon return to their snug burrows or hollow 
trees. We are lucky if we see on our winter 
walk "hide or hair" of anything but a few squir- 



'^T 













"WRITING HIS SIGNATURE. 
The cottontail rabbit making tracks in snow. 

rels and rabbits. But on the snow are many 
stories written in most varied and interesting 



characters. Not even a tiny field-mouse can take 
one timid step from his hole without leaving this 
record for sharp eyes to read. The snow, which 
shuts the animals themselves away from us, is, 
after all, an advantage. Animals of which we 
learn little in summer, because they are scarce 
or roam abroad largely at night, now by their 
trails in the snow tell us about their wanderings, 
how and where they got food, and where they 
went for water ; and whether they ran, trotted, 
walked, or ambled, is there written down. 

In looking for and following these written 
trails, I have learned that certain kinds of places 
are particularly favored. Thus a swift stream 
or any piece of open water is always sure to 
attract many of the winter wide-awakes, and is 
the best place I know in which to look for various 
snow trails, especially of mink and muskrat. 
Near bushy or weedy growths along old fences, 
beside low thickets or in dry sedgy marshes you 
will find that mice have been most numerous and 
active, their trails crossing and recrossing in 
some places quite like the railroad tracks at a 
busy junction, or a large freight terminal. Here, 
too, is naturally a good place to look for signs of 
foxes and of big snowy owls. Where one of 
these creatures has sat in wait for the mice or 
pounced upon one of the poor fellows there will 
be curious marks to study. The fox, however, 



266 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



267 



is a great traveler, and once you are in the open 
or wooded country you should be constantly on 
the lookout for his trail, though unless foxes are 
more than usually numerous in your locality, one 
or two fresh trails are all for which you may 
reasonably hope. 

A weedy field with just the right look is per- 
haps the second best place for wild trails, mostly 
bird tracks. Goldenrod, "sticktights" of various 
sorts, mullen, and other heady weeds in the shel- 
ter of a wood, with perhaps clumps of black haw 
and wild plum — this is the place for winged 
winter gleaners. A search here can hardly fail 
to show where "snowflakes," tree sparrows, 
horned larks, redpolls, and perhaps goldfinches 
have been at work ; about specially seedy stalks 
of the right kinds the little trails are clustered 
and confused, reminding us of the mice tracks 
which we saw in the swamp, but much more 
thickly grouped than mouse tracks are ever found 
to be. I have watched the lively birds making 
just such trails on a frosty day, and how they 
did flutter and flit about one weed stalk, one of 
the flock trying to keep all the rest away and at 



you pick out the snowflake's tracks and those of 
the tree sparrow? If not you have so much at 
least to learn in the weedy field. 




THE TRACKS OF THE RACCOON. 

Trail to home tree. In the upper part of the tree is the entrance to the 

hollow interior. In the circle is a near view of this entrance. 

the same time feed from the weed by tiptoeing 
or flying up to reach the higher seeds ! In these 
tangled trails among the weeds and stubble, can 




RED FOX AND TR.\IL. 
It is remarkalDle how many tracks of foxes you will see quite near the 
village, where they have been in the night. — Henry David Thoreal'. 

Woods and thickets of any sort may show 
tracks of the ruffed grouse. But at this season 
I go for these to an alder swamp or low lying 
alder thicket. Here the shy grouse love to go 
to feed on the buds and catkins of alders and 
other trees usually found in such places. I have 
found the trails very numerous for weeks to- 
gether about fresh brush piles where woodmen 
have been at work. To me the trail of this bird 
is always the most interesting of all. Here and 
there are places where the grouse has rested a 
while in the snow and left the imprint of breast 
and tail. This is the time to find the snow caves 
where these birds spend the cold nights when the 
snow is deep. 

Coming to the big woods we find the tracks of 
red squirrels and rabbits most abundant. Now 
look for the more rare trails of gray squirrels, 
skunks, and raccoons. A wood-cutter once told 
me of felling a hollow tree in which he found to 
his great surprise half a dozen or more 'coons. 



268 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



[Jan., 




RUFFED GROUSE AND ITS SUNNING 

OR RESTING PLACE. 

Showing where the grouse sat down a few 

minutes to rest or to sun himself and 

then flew away brushing the 

snow with the tips of his 

wings as lie rose. 



Tliis lazy animal seldom, if ever, stirs abroad in 
bright daylight, but at night unrolls himself and 
crawls clumsily down from the old tree in which 



winter woods. The skunk is a born ambler. His 
trail will be found going this way and that as 
he looked for food ; now and then he has stopped 
to root down to the ground. The other day I 
met a little skunk going about rooting with much 
energy in the muck of the wood. Undisturbed, 
he allowed me to follow him about until I came 
closer than a few yards, when he would face 
around and try to scare me by making little runs 
in my direction, then scraping backward with his 
front feet, a very peculiar way that skunks have. 
Though the birds seem merry and lively, and 
the red squirrel frisks across the snow, the wild 
creatures really have little love for frost and 
bleakness. The squirrels are out for food and, 
when not "hunched up" gnawing a butternut or 
a frozen apple or looking for something to gnaw, 
they will be found curled up on a branch close 
against the side of a tree, the tail close over the 
back, their feet tucked well in under them. Bob- 
whites, redpolls, and goldfinches on sunny days 
leave their tracks in weedy fields. A storm 
drives them to the shelter of the woods or to 
some protected place. The bob-whites, or quail, 
snuggle close together under tall grasses or in 
some thick vegetation to spend the nights and 
to weather out rough winds. When there is snow 
in such places you w-ill find it fairly trampled 




A RED SQUIRREL IN COLD 
WE.'\THER POSE. 



BOB-WHITE " (QUAIL) IN SHELTER OF A BANK. 
Quail often seek the sunny side of a steep bank. 



is spent a great part of his life. His tracks are down by the numerous little feet. The bob- 
indeed interesting and if possible should be fol- white's track is exactly like that of a ruffed 
lowed. Can you tell a 'coon's trail from a grouse, only smaller, 
skunk's? Here is something to learn in the Edmund T- Sawyer. 



I909-] 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



269 



HOW THE PUFFER DISCOMFITS HIS ENEMY 

All the little sea-folk have their own clever way 
of protecting themselves from their enemies, but 




A PUFFER. 

"Just imagine liic little puffer swimniintj around in the water, 
like a small round box with a head on." 

the spiny box-fish has about the cleverest way of 
all. 

He belongs to the great family called Puffer, 
and you will see in a moment how well the name 
fits him. 

Just imagine the little puffer swimming around 
in the water, looking like a small round box with 
a head on. A big fish comes along, sees the little 
puffer and thinks, "There 's just a good mouth- 
ful for me!" But just as he darts toward him, 
the little puffer blows himself up like a ball, turns 
over on his back, and floats around with all his 
sharp prickers sticking out toward his enemy. 

The big fish is dazed, he stares at the puffer 
and thinks, "Can that great prickly thing be the 
same little fish I tried to swallow!" He can't 
tmderstand it, but he sees there is no use trying, 
so he goes sadly on his way — and when the little 




ANOTHER VIEW OF THE PUFFER. 

" ' Can that prickly thing be the same little fish ? ' " 

The two photographs in this column are reproduced through the 

courtesy ot L. B. Spencer. 

puffer is sure he is gone, he just empties the wa- 
ter out of his skin and goes back to his usual size. 



Now is n't that a pretty clever trick for a little 
fish to play? But you see Mother Nature gave 
the little puffer just that kind of a body that he 
might escape from his enemies. 

Jessie B. Rittenhouse. 

A WOODCHUCK IN A TREE 

The accompanying cut shows a fully-grown 
woodchuck about fifteen feet up in an elm-tree. 
The tree stood beside a wood which shows in the 
background. The animal was in this position 
when I came across him, and apparently had 
climbed the tree simply to get leaves which he 




A WUOUCHUCK CLIMBING A TREE. 

was eating when first seen. Before I could take 
a second picture of him, he either fell or jumped 
to the ground with a thud, and scurried off to 
his hole in the field some fifty feet away. I have 
seen one other woodchuck in a tree, but never 
saw one at such a height. They are ground- 
dwellers and are very rarely seen, even a few 
feet up in a tree. E. J. S. 



270 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



[Jan., 



THE OLD-MAN CACTUS 

The great desert in the southeastern part of the 
United States contains many forms of cacti. 
Fantastic shapes and strange forms are plentiful. 
An exceedingly interesting species has lately been 
introduced from Mexico. In its native home it 
often attains the height of twenty or twenty-five 
feet. The plants are covered with very long 
white "hairs," which resemble the gray hairs on 



ordinary pin, to which he has added his name 
and the year, making altogether two hundred 
and seventy-six letters and figures. 




AN OLD-MAN CACTUS. 
Photograph by C. C. Pierce & Company. 

an old man's head. This strange appearance has 
given this cactus its common name. The scien- 
tific name is Pilocereus 5(?we/w.— Charlotte M. 

HOAK. 

THE LORD'S PRAYER ENGRAVED ON THE 
HEAD OF A PIN 

Probably we all have heard of one-dollar gold 
pieces with the Lord's Prayer engraved on one 
side. Several years ago these were worn by many 
as watch-charms. Occasionally even now one 
may be seen thus worn. Such minute engraving 
may well be considered skilful work. 

But recently this has been made to seem, at 
least, by comparison, quite a simple matter, be- 
cause Mr. William L. Stuart, a young man 
engaged in business in New York City, has per- 
formed the seemingly impossible feat of engrav- 
ing the entire Lord's Prayer on the head of an 



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fk. ^^mi 


^ 





ENGRAVING THE PIN HEAD. 

Mr, Stuart's hands resting on a thick, leather cushion as he cuts 

the pin head with, an ordinary engraver's tool. 

As will be seen in the accompanying photo- 
graph of the head of the pin greatly magnified, 
he could have crowded in a few more (if it had 
been simply a matter of letters and not of words) 
at the top, at the right-hand side and at the 
bottom. The pin, looked at without a magni- 
fying glass, seems to have a merely roughened 
surface. 

Mr. Stuart did the work at odd times during 
his regular employment and with very ordinary 
tools, which seemingly are not adapted to such 
fine engraving. The pin was set in a block of 
wood and a common engraver's tool was used. 



k dtriiver us wtm\ e^ii ^nr ^k 
f '' 'htne i^ the Kf ngrfaif^ TmM 

ever- BM ^vrcAmen ^^ 



A PHOTOGRAPH (GREATLY MAGNIFIED) OF THE LORD'S 
PRAYER ENGRAVED ON THE HEAD OF AN ORDINARY PIN. 

A simple microscope, costing only about twenty- 
five cents and known as a "linen tester," fur- 
nished the necessary magnifying. 



igog.] 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



271 



^"BECAUSE- WE 
[want to KNOW" 






goldenrod galls 

Cherry Valley, N. Y. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I am sending you some goldemod 
having queer, swollen places on the stalks. I have heard 
it called a "disease" and wish you would please tell me 
what it is. All the goldenrod is not so affected, but about 
half of what I have seen around this neighborhood has 
this peculiar, bulb-like formation. I have seen some with 
three swellings on one stalk. What seems rather strange 
is that the flowers seem as developed and pretty on many 
of the "diseased" plants as on the others. 

Your devoted friend, 

Pauline M. Dakin. 

Swellings on leaf, twig, stem, and roots of 
various plants are quite common and appeal to 
almost any person as not a part of the normal 
growth of the plant. Such growths caused by 
insects are called galls. The galls you send are 




GOLDENROD H.A.VING QUEER SWOLLEN PLACES 
ON THE STALKS." 

the common goldenrod ball gall. (There are 
other kinds of galls on the goldenrod that consist 
of bunches of leaves.) 



The growth is caused by one or more eggs of 
iiLsects inserted in a bud, a flower, a leaf, a root, 
or some other part of a plant. 

ivy on oaks 

Napa, California. 
Dear St. Nicholas: I send a photograph, taken by my 
aunt, of one of the two old and ivy-covered oaks on the 
lawn of our old home. The ivy was planted about twenty 




TWO LARGE, IVY-COVERED OAKS. 

years ago by the Honorable Eli T. Sheppard. There is a 
great quantity of ivy on each of these oaks, and my brother 
and I used to hang in its trailing festoons. A rose vine 
climbs to the top of each oak and every year hangs out its 
beautiful yellow roses fifty feet above the ground. The 
photograph I send was taken in the winter when the oak is 
bare. 

With best wishes to the St. Nicholas, 

Margaret A. Farman. 



WHAT ARE MADSTONES? 

Denver, III. 
Dear St. Nicholas : Can you tell me where the mad- 
stones are found, and what is the correct name for them? 

Yours very truly, 

Frank Fleming. 

Madstone, a vegetable substance or stone which, 
when applied to a wound caused by the bite of a 
mad dog, is said to prevent hydrophobia. The 
most famous one .in the United States is owned 
by the descendants of a family named Fred, in 
Virginia. This stone was brought over from 
Scotland in 1776. It is said to be the one spoken 
of by Sir Walter Scott in "The Talisman," and 
has been religiously preserved as one of the most 
valuable relics of the age. It is about two inches 
long by one inch broad, and about half an inch 
thick, and is of a chocolate color. When applied 
to the wound it adheres till all the poison is ab- 
sorbed, when it drops off. It is then soaked in 
warm milk or water for a time, and when re- 
,moved the liquid is found to be full of a greenish- 



272 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



[Jan., 



yellow scum. It is said that of the 130 cases in 
which it has been appHed for a bite of a mad dog, 
none ever suffered from hydrophobia. There are 
said to be three authenticated madstones in the 
United States. 

The belief in a madstone was common hun- 
dreds of years ago in the East, and travelers in 
India in 1677 and 1685 make mention of it. Tra- 
dition said it grew on the head of certain snakes. 
George F. Kunz, a New York expert in gems, 
identifies the madstone, or snakestone, of the East, 
with the stone known as tabersheer, which is a 
variety of opal found in the joints of the bamboo 
in Hindustan and Burma. This stone is formed 
of juice which by evaporation becomes mucilagin- 
ous, then a solid substance, and when placed in 
the mouth will adhere to the palate ; it is said 
even to cause water to boil. Sir David Brewster 
says it is found in the joints of diseased corn- 
stalks, and is formed by sap depositing silica. — 
The Encyclopedia Americana. 

I have had in my possession for a number of 
years a substance which answers all the qualities 
of an absorbent. This view has been accepted 
and credited to me by the late Valentine Ball, 
formerly of the Geological Survey of Indiana, 
in his "Tavernier Travels" ; namely, it is the 
Taversheer — the opal which forms in the joints 
of the bamboo. — George F. Kunz. 

Madstone is a term applied to a variety of natu- 
ral objects, superstiti.ously believed to have the 
power of drawing out the poison from a wound 
made by a venomous animal. There are proba- 
bly hundreds of so-called madstones in the United 
States. 

One of the oldest forms of madstone is the 
"Bezoar-stone." Ibu Baither (died 1242 a.d.) 
ascribes to it the power of "attracting the poison 
of venomous animals." The Museum has a speci- 
men of the "bezoar-stone" which came from 
China. 

Halloysite is a mineral of which some of the 
famous madstones are composed. It absorbs 
moisture with avidity, and adheres to a moist sur- 
face until nearly saturated. 

A few years ago what was claimed to be a 
madstone of known efficacy, was offered for sale 
to the Smithsonian Institution for the sum of 
one thousand dollars. It proved to be a polished 
seed of the Kentucky coffee-tree {Gymnocladiis 
canadensis). 

A pebble of carbonate of lime, said to have 
been found in the stomach cf a deer, was recently 
presented to the Museum as a veritable madstone. 

Two "hair-balls" from the stomach of a buffalo 



Vi'ere sent to the Museum as madstones, one of 
which had been "successfully used in two cases of 
dog bite." 

(The Museum desires further contributions to 
its collection of this class of objects.) 
Signed. James M. Flint, 
Curator U. S. Museum, Washington. 
Will our readers please send any information 
they may have as to madstones. — E. F. B. 

a curious "transparent" photograph 

Grand Forks, North Dakota. 
Dear St. Nicholas : When we printed this picture I 
discovered a very strange thing. When j'ou look closely 
you can see the boards of the house and fence fight through 




I'liOTOGKAPII. 



the figure of the woman and the clothes on tlie line and a 
the grass through the basket. Will you please tell me w 

'^^^^ ^^ ' Lauren McAdam (age 10). 



hy 



igog.] 



NATURE AND SCIENCE FOR YOUNG FOLKS 



273 



It seemed to me self-evident that this was the 
result of a double exposure — one before the 
clothes, woman, and basket were there, and one 
afterward. The Eastman Kodak Company 
agrees with this and writes as follows: 

"The print submitted was certainly from a negative on 
whicli two exposures had been made. The only way we 
can account for the effect shown is that the shutter was 
operated twice while the camera was in the same position, 
the first time unknown to the operator, before the figure, 
etc., were within range of the lens." 

The writer of the query, however, insists that 
it is not double. Upon writing him my explana- 
tion and sending the letter from the Eastinan 
Kodak Company, he writes : 

"I don't think it could have been a double ex- 
posure, because the woman, clothes, and basket 
were there when we took the picture. It was 
set at the instantaneous exposure." 

On the supposition that it is a double ex- 
posure (and I see no other explanation), it must 
be admitted that it is a remarkable fact that the 
clapboards in the upper part and the grass in the 
foreground are sharp and show even under the 
lens not the slightest slurring. One would think 
it not a puzzle but an exceedingly good trick 
photograph, with not the slightest movement in 
the two exposures. 

What amateur photographer can explain this ? 

SPARKS IN THE SAND 

Nfav York City. 
Dear St. Nicholas : Will you please tell me what makes 
sparks in the sand? One evening last summer we were 
walking in the wet sand on the beach when the tide was 
out, and by drawing our feet quickly over the surface the 
sand shone with hundreds of sparks. Will you please tell 
nie what causes this? I should like very much to know. 
Your interested reader, 

Dorothea Harnecker. 

This was probably caused by the minute ani- 
mals known as Nocfiluca, which occur in im- 
mense numbers on the surface of the sea and 
are frequently left in great abundance entangled 
among the saiid grains when the tide has ebbed. 
They are so small that a single one is not more 
than from One one-hundredth to four one-hun- 
dredths of an inch in diameter, yet each one has 
a distinct mouth and digestive tract. The sur- 
face of the body, which is soft and easily crushed, 
becoines phosphorescent when injured or even 
when the aniiTial is disturbed. A bucket of sea 
water will often become brightly luminous when 
suddenly jarred, because these little creatures ex- 
ist there so abundantly and give out their phos- 
phorescent light when jostled, and it often 
happens that the surface of the sea will at night 
become brightly lighted in great patches by the 
presence of the Noctiluca. 



A RASPBERRY VINE TREED 

KuwK, Massachuseti s. 
Dear Si'. Nicholas : I inclose a photograph that may be 
of interest to your readers. It shows the trunk of a large 
sugar-maple that stands on a farm in this town, and a rasp- 




THE raspberry VINE GROWING IN A SUGAR-MAPLE TREE. 

berry vine that is growing in the crotch of the tree at a 
height of ten feet from the ground. The tree is old and 
there is quite an accumulation of dirt in the crotch, so that 
the vine is quite prosperous, with shoots several feet in 
length, bearing fruit just as if the vine were growing in 
the ground. 

Yours truly, 

N. A. C. Smith. 

It seems probable that the seed for the vine 
was carried to the tree by birds. 



MUSIC MAKES A DOG HOW^L 

Cragsmoor, New York. 
Dear St. Nicholas: JVIy grandfather has an Irish setter 
about eight years old. "When he hears music of any sort 
he raises his head and howls. Does he like it or not? 
Some of the family say he does liecause sometimes he wags 
his tail when he "sings," but others say he does not Ije- 
cause he howls so. 

Yours truly, 

DoROTPiY E. Duncan. 

All dogs and wolves will join in and howl 
more or less to music. If they disliked it they 
would go away ; on the contrary, in most cases 
they come and wag their tails. It seems to give 
them pleasure.— Ernest Thompson Seton. 




A HEADIN'G. BY EUGENE L. W 

Farewell to Nineteen-eight, — Hail Nineteen-nine I 

The New Year's trumpet-call, 
Sounding the slogan that is ours, ^'Adv.'afice J'^ 

Rings out, for one and all, 
To planit the banners of the League, each year, 

Upon some loftier wall. 

And that the ardent young members of the League will 
do this, there can be no doubt. Indeed, the merit of their 
contributions seems steadily to increase, showing that, for 
each and all, the standard of achievement grows higher, 
year by year. 

In the future we shall endeavor to print on the first page 
of the League (as we do in this number) the names of the 
prize-virinners of the current competition. 

The subject "A Coasting Adventure" announced for 
this month's Prose Competition was a popular one, judg- 
ing from the many excellent contributions sent in. It may 
have been rather a difficult one for young folk living in 
lands where there is no snow. While we had in mind the 
idea of " snow " when we announced the subject, we 
were not a little surprised, and very much pleased, to re- 



ALTER, AGE 15. (GOLD BADGE.) 

ceive several contributions from tropical and sub-tropical 
countries. Of course, now we come to think of it, it is n't 
necessary to have snow for a good coast downhill! The 
zeal of the contributors from those snowless climes in 
writing about the only kind of coasting adventure their 
countries afforded shows what loyal League members they 
are, and how unwilling they were to let the competition 
pass without sending in a contribution. 

We announced in the September number that, owing to 
the change in the date of issue for the magazine (the mid- 
dle instead of at the end of the montli), the date for closing 
the competitions would be the tenth of the month (for 
foreign members, the fifteenth). It was unavoidable that 
we could not give a longer notice, and a number of excel- 
lent contributions were received after the date for closing. 
But to be fair to the others, who may have had to hurry 
their work a little, we were obliged to exclude these late 
comers. Now that the tenth (for foreign members, the 
fifteenth) is the well-understood closing day, we shall hope 
to receive no tardy contributions at all. 



PRIZE-WINNERS, COMPETITION No. 107 

In making theawards, contributors' ages are considered. 

Verse. Gold badges, Mary de Lorme Van Rossem (age 
i6), Amsterdam, Holland, and James B. Hunter (age ij), 
Tusla, Cal. 

Silver badges, Jeannette Munro (age 14), and Elizabeth 
Page James (age 14), Lawrenceburg, Ind. 

Prose. Gold badges, Caroline Walker Munro (age 12), 
Madison, Wis., and Theodore Cockroft (age 16), Oak- 
land, Cal. 

Silver badges, Helen M. Hamilton (age 12), Sterlington, 
N. V. ; Agnes Davidson (age 12), Glasgow, Scotland, and 
Josephine P. Keene (age 14), Watertown, Mass. 

Drawing. Gold badges, Eugene L. Walter (age 15), 
Brooklyn, N. Y., and Clarence E. Matthews (age 17), 
Newark, N. J. 

Silver badges, William E. Fay (age 13), Marietta, 
Ohio; Elmer E. Hagler, Jr. (age 13), Springfield, 111., 
and Margaret Reed (age 16), Concord, N. H. 



Photography. Gold badges, Oakes I. Ames (age 15), 
Readville, Mass., and Mary Catharine Rhodes (age 16), 
Richmond, Va. 

Silver badges, Howard F. Barkley (age 10), New York 
City, and Herbert L. Bisbee (age 15), East Sumner, Mass. 

Wild Creature Photography. First prize, Gordon Reed 
(age 12), Montreal, Canada. Second prize, Rachel Young 
(age 14), Washington, D. C. Third prize, George Curtiss 
Job (age 16), West Haven, Conn. Fourth prize, Mary 
Comstock (age 12), New Haven, Conn. 

Puzzle Answers. Gold badges, Violet W. HofE (age 
11), Sherwood, Md., and John Flavel Hubbard, Jr. (age 
13), Tompkinsville, Staten Island, N. Y. 

Silver badge, W. Lloyd, Albany, N. Y. 

Puzzle-making. Gold badges, Isabelle B. Miller (age 
16), New York City, and Hester Gunning (age 13), Fall 
River, Mass. 

Silver badges, Eleanor Margaret Warden (age 14), 
West Kirby, Cheshire, England, and Alan Dudley Bush 
(age 8), Little Heath, Potter's Bar, Herts, England. 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



275 



PROMISES 

BY JAMES li. HUNTER (AGE I 5) 

l^Gold Badge) 

Inventors promise us the heatless light, 
The ocean-crossing submarine, 
The airships flying clay and night, 
And then we smile. 

The thinkers tell us that the world will grow 
Still better than 't was e'er before ; 
But gazing ever in the mud below, 
We groan awhile. 

Why do we doubt? The Stone Age men 
So doubted their strange brother in the cave. 
Who shaped the black ore for a spear, — but then, 
He killed a crocodile. 

Why do we doubt? A hundred years 
Have worked great changes on this earth of ours. 
The slaver steals no more 'mid sighs and tears. 
Beyond the Nile. 

And so it is. The promises and dreams 
Of one age, do come true the next. 
All honored he who sees beyond what seems 
To stay the style I 




'a HEADING." BY MARGARET REED, AGE l6. (SILVER BADGE.) 



A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY CAROLINE WALKER MUNRO (AGE I2) 

{Gold Badge) 

A FEW years ago my father was staying in a little 
village in the Vosges about a quarter of a mile 
from the French frontier. 

One lovely winter's day he, with a party of 
eight Americans and one Scotchman, decided to 
slide down the side of one of the near-by moun- 
tains. 

They procured a large lumber sled, and, after 
hauling it part way up the mountain, started off. 

They were having such a fine time sliding 
amid the glorious scenery, that they did not 
notice that they had slid over the French border 
until they went to a near-by town for refresh- 




"tHE orchard." by HERBERT L. BISBEE, AGE 15. (SILVER BADGE. ) 

ments and were not allowed to return to Alsace without 
a passport. 

As it would have taken quite a while to get a passport, 
the party went to Switzerland and from there to Germany. 

In their descent they had broken a board in the bottom 
of the sled, and when they returned it to the farmer there 
was great consternation in the family. 

The whole family, husband, wife, and children, wept be- 
cause of the scarcity of lumber with which to repair the 
hole. Of course my father and his friends said they would 
pay for it, and asked how much it would cost. 

After carefully considering the question the farmer 
asked if one mark would be too much. 

They gave him two marks and left the whole family 
smiling radiantly, and the farmer remarked that he wished 
they would take his sled every day. 



League members will please not forget that 
contributions must be received by the tenth of 
the month — for foreign members, the fifteenth. 




SS^.!\'J<£;?4<!)CA^iC^*^5^^ 







jTANMM^i 




A HEADING. BY A. DE tOURG TEES, AGE I3. 



276 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Jan., 



THE KING'S PROMISE 

BY FRANCIS M. BARRANCO (aGE I4) 

Before the city's towering walls 

Encamped the king's great army lay ; 

Upon the lofty citadel 

A knight's fair standard rose and fell. 
The seventh day had passed away 

Since the attack of the monarch's host ; 

Yet still it flew, the rebel's boast. 





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YOUNG BROAD WINGED HAWKS. IJY GEORGE CURTISS JOB, 

AGE l5. (THIRD PRIZE, WILD CREATURE PHOTOGRAPHY.) 

A truce was called ; the stately king 

Met the brave knight at the trysting tree. 
There swore he on his royal lance, 
Upon the lilies white of France, 

That the defenders should go free. 
The drawbridge fell ere the trumpet's note; 
" Go, fling the traitors in the moat! " 

With sword in hand the knight appears ; 

A streak, a flash, their swords do clash. 
"Thou art the traitor, false-hearted king; 
Of thy dishonored word shall minstrels sing. 

Not of thy glory!" His snowy sash 
Crimsoned in blood, as he grasped his mace, 
And, dying, flung it in the monarch's face. 





1^^ 


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AN ORCHARD. BY KATHARINE TIGHE, AGE 12. 

A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY AGNES DAVIDSON (AGE 12) 

(Silver Badge) 

I WILL never forget the terrible adventure my brother 
Jack and I had last winter. It had been a very bad winter 
for tobogganing, and we were very disappointed as we were 
very fond of it. 

Well, one day about the middle of February when we 
looked out of the window we saw that it had been freezing 
and we hoped in a day or two to be able to toboggan. 

The weather did not deceive us. In about four days' 
time from the aforesaid morning we started off. I will 
never forget the day ; it was a clear, cold, frosty morning 
and the snow was lying thick on the ground. 

Just a little way from our house there was a long and 
comparatively steep hill, terminating in a railway line, 
which was just then under repair, and no trains were sup- 
posed to be running on it. So we determined to take our 
toboggan there. We started, and the toboggan went fly- 
ing down the hill and before we could stop, it went bump 
against the railway line and sent its flying all over the 




'cattle." by WILLIAM E. FAY, AGE 13. (SILVER BADGE.) 



ipog.] 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



277 



place. However, we did not 
liurt ourselves a bit, and up we 
went again for another turn. We 
had just got started when all of ' 
a sudden we heard the whistle of 
a train. We were in an awful 
state, and lack tried to stop the 
toboggan, but it would not stop 
and we went rushing on down, )' 
down, with the train just nearly ( 
on us. I shut my eyes and tried |< 
not to think, when all of a sud- I 

den my brother gave a shout, ' "'°' ' "~° 

"Saved!!" and I opened my 

eyes to find that owing to a little 

sort of bump on the hill the toboggan had turned to one 

side and was stuck in a bush at the bottom of the hill, 

and the train safely ]5assed. How thankful we were that 

we were saved, and I need not say that we never went to- 








a. 



'A HEADING. BY HELEN B. KEEN, AGE I4. 



rather too many trees, though it was not difficult for an ex- 
perienced person to steer clear of them. 

After having gone dovvn several times with my nurse I 
begged her to let me go alone. She at first relused, but 
then thinking better of it, consented. 



LIFE'S PROMISES 

BY AGNES MACKENZIE MIALL (AGE 16) 

What matters it that stormy tempests blow ? 

Why should we shrink or fear ? 
We need not fret and grumble, for we know 

That spring is near. 

What if the night be long and full of pain. 

Unlit by stars or moon ; 
What though it seems no sun will shine again ? 

Light Cometh soon. 

What if the task be hard for us to learn — 

Shall we not persevere ? 
Yea, labor on, with purpose true and stern. 

Till all is clear. 

What though the world seems heartless and unkind ? 

What if we have no friend ? 
Let us be patient : we are sure to find 

Love in the end. 

A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY HELEN M. HAMILTON (AGE 12) 

(^Silver Badge) 

A COASTING adventure, or more correctly, accident, which 
happened to me at the age of six or seven, comes clearly 
to my mind. 

My small brothers, our nurse, and myself were out coast- 
ing one cold morning. The spot was excellent for our use, 
being a steep bank. Its only fault was that there were 





A HE.^DING. BY ELMEK I-: HAliLl 



"elk." by ILAKY COMSTOCK, AGE 12. (FOURTH PRIZE, 
WILD CREATURE PHOTOGRAPHY.) 

I must admit that I was extremely nervous as I sat upon 
the sled, preparatory to making my descent, which, at that 
moment, seemed so perilous. 

Near the end of the course 
was a large tree, around which 
I had to steer. My nurse's last 
words as she shoved me off were : 
" Keep away from the tree." As 
I swept rapidly nearer to it, that 
awful tree loomed larger and 
larger, until, paralyzed with fear, 
I was powerless to steer clear of 
it. The last thing I remembered 
was colliding with it with a fearful 
crash and at the same moment 
uttering a piercing shriek. 

I had struck that tree with such 
impetus that my sled was broken 
and my head came near being in 
a like condition. My nurse said 



278 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Jan., 



i>*-':.x,f^ . i-.. 'w ,».«•» v^'.^^jvwi 


FJfiffl^^^HI 






In, 





"an orchard." BV HOWARD F. BARKLEN', AGE lo. (SILVER BADGE.) 

that all she heard and saw, was a yell, a crash, a flurry of 
snow, and a shower of splintered wood. Rushing to the 
spot, she found me with a very much battered head. 

It is needless to add that it was a long time before I was 
allowed, or had any wish to coast alone. 

THE PROMISES OF THE NEW-YEAR 

BY BEULAH ELIZABETH AMIDON (AGE I4) 

A ROSY babe, adown the path he trips, 

The dimpled hands are filled with blossoms sweet;' 
Bright minutes play about the tiny feet 

And harken to the sage words from his lips. 

" Oh, People of the Earth, to you I bring 
The promise of a new and better year! 
With joyous hearts come, meet me without fear, 
For are not hope and gladness everything? 

" You who have conquered that with which you fouglit, 
Meet me with vows to do yet greater deeds. 
Right deeper wrongs, give what the whole world needs : 
Another life with strength and gladness fraught. 

" And you who 've failed in all your hopes of life, 
Come, and with me forget the past ; 
Attain thy aspirations now at last. 
With a new heart once more rejoin the strife. 



" To all humanity I say — 
' Adopt this creed : 
Give your best life ; find 

and fill your place ; 
Meet this great world with 
a bright, smiling face. 
Strive for one goal — To 
live, and then 
succeed.' " 



A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY CATHERINE DUNLOP MACKENZIE (AGE I4) 

It was a glorious winter night, and the rising moon and 
firmly paclced snow gave promise of many a splendid coast 
as Tommy Macleod rubbed the shining runners of his 
double-runner with his woollen mitten, and with a glance 
of pride at the gleaming red and white of the sled, ran 
through the gate and bounded down the road, drawing the 
" Flying Dutchman " by the steering-rope. 

Reaching the hill where the coasting was best. Tommy 
stopped and looked up. The hill was a long one and very 
steep, in fact, an ideal one for coasting; the only danger 
lying in the passing of horses and sleighs at the cross-roads 
where Tommy stood. But generally the sleigh-bells them- 
selves were warning enough to the coasters, and so far no 
accidents had occurred. 

The snow was in perfect condition, the moonlight beau- 
tiful, and eagerly Tom commenced the climb. 

His " Dutchman" had held first place among the double- 
runners in the town for three winters, and it was an excited 
group of boys that greeted him with the information that 
Will Allen had just declared he would race Tom's " Fly- 
ing Dutcliman " with his new "Comet," for the record 
that night. 

Tom was Scotch, and he determined to hold the record 



rrm ST.NICHOLAS LEAGICI 




BY CLARENCE E. MATTHEWS, AGE I7. 
(GOLD BADGE.) 



if possible; and after turning his double-runner said qui- 
etly: " All right, get your sleigh in line." 

At the signal " go ! " the two sleds sped down the hill. 
Faster and faster they went, '-neck and neck," until Tom 
gained slightly, and as tliey neared the cross-roads he was 
nearly three feet ahead. 

Just then a harsh jangle of bells broke on their ears, and 
w'ith a yell," Look out! " Will turned his sled into a snow- 
bank at the side of the road. But it was too late for Tom 





Be careful of your 
punctuation. It is 
next in importance 
to the thought and 
words of your con- 
tribution. 






BY HELEN MAY, AGE I3. 



igog.] 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



279 




BV RACHEL \'C)UNO, ALiE 14. (bliCU.XD I'RIZK, 
WILD CREATURE PHOTOGRAl'HY.) 

to Stop, and as he shot past, to his horror he saw a runa- 
way team dash along the street in front of him. 

For a second he froze with terror. There was no chance 
of stopping either the horse or his sleigli ; but as tliey met, 
his nerve returned and as the terrified Will extricated 
himself from the bank he saw Tom steer directly between 
the horse's flying hoofs, and a moment later a deafening 
cheer from the bridge told that Tom still held the record. 



THE BIRDS' PROMISE OF SPRING 

BY THALIA HOWARD SMITH (AGE 12) 

FLEET-WINGED messengers of Spring, 
Your flowing tunes with joy I hear! 

Your full throats seem to burst with song, 
Your notes, as running brooks, are clear. 

1 love you, for to me you sing 

Of buds and flowers, a paradise 
Of earthly joys, of trees in 
bloom. 
And babbling streams set 
free from ice. 



first is a small hill, the next very long and steep, the 
third long but not very steep, the last short and very 
steep. At the bottom of the last hill is a river, which, 
at this point, is quite narrow; the river was not entirely 
frozen over, maldng it rather unsafe. We boys had 
to work very hard all morning to get the hills packed; 
the work gave us a good appetite and we thoroughly 
enjoyed the generous supply of ham sandwiches which 
we had carried with us. After completing our luncheon 
we thought we would test our work; one of the boys 
and myself started out. The first attempt was unsuc- 
cessful, for, when we were 
part of the way down we were 
thrown headlong into a snow- 
drift ; however, not at all dis- 
couraged, we tried again. We 
gained a most terrific speed 
and found we could not stop 
when we reached the bottom 
of the last hill. My friend, 
seeing the danger, slid off of 
the sled, but before I realized 
my position I was on the ice 
of the river heading straight 
for one of the numerous holes. 
I tried to steer away from 
the hole, but could not. At 
any rate, in some remarkable 
way the sled went into the 
hole under the ice and I was 
thrown headlong on the other 
side of the hole. 

I was a thoroughly scared 
boy and when quite myself 
again started to hunt for my sled. The rest of the after- 
noon was spent fishing for my sled and I am happy to say 
that our efforts were at last rewarded, both the sled and its 
owner were safe. It was quite an experience, but the next 
day we were again coasting ; however, we were careful that 
the experience should not be repeated. 




"raccoon." by ROGER brooks, 
AGE II. 



So warble on, O gentle birds. 
And swell your mellow 
throats, and sing. 
For you have filled my heart 
with hope. 
Within me, as without, is 
Spring! 

A COASTING 
ADVENTURE 

BY CHARLES T. GUMMER 
(AGE 13) 

The incident which I am 
about to relate occurred in the 
winter of 1904. The country 
where I live is very hilly, and 
consequently we boys have 
lots of fun coasting. 

I received a new sled for 
Christmas, and my first op- 
portunity to use it was several 
weeks later, when we had the 
great blizzard. There are 
four hills close together. The 




'A HERD OF BUFFALO." BY GORDON REED, AGE 12. {FIRST PRIZE, WILD CREATURE PHOTOGRAPHY.) 



280 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



[Jan., 



A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY NORINE MEAiXS (aGE i6) 

Many, many years ago, when Grandfather Keys was a 
lad, he had a coasting adventure, of which I shall never 
tire of hearing. 

One day grandfather and several of his chums went 
coasting on Barney's hill, which leads to Catskill Creek. 

After coasting for some time the boys decided to try the 
Creek for skating. All went well when they were coast- 




ST. HICHOLAS 
LEAGUL 
JAHUARy 

iqoq. 



A HEADIiNG. 

KATHAKIXE NEWELL, 



ing, but when they had 
skated some time, one of 
the boys started up the 
Creek to a place where 
they had not been. Me 
was going at a rapid pace 
and saw that there was thin 
ice ahead, but it was too late; he could not stop, and be- 
fore he could call to any one he went crashing through the 
ice. 

His cries for help brought the others down the Creek, 
with grandfather in the lead. It was puzzling how to 
rescue the boy — the ice crumbled as he cauglit at its edges, 
to support liiniself. Nor would the ice bear any of the 
skaters up. 

Finally, grandfather went to the opposite bank, grasped 
a fence pole and hurried back. He skated around the boy 





\KES L AMES, AGE 15. (GOLD BADGE.) 



"THE ORCHARD." BY MARV KATHARINE RHODES, AGE 16. 
(gold BADGE.) 

to mark his line of venture and then threw himself flat 
and extended the pole to the drowning boy, who grasped 
it eagerly. Immediately the others grasped grandfather's 
heels and pulled both boys to safety. 

Then they built a big bonfire on the bank and thus 
ended their day of coasting, by the praising of one com- 
panion and thankfulness for the rescue of another. 

PROMISES OF THE NIGHT 

by elizabeth page james 
(age 14) 

(^Silver Badge) 

The light falls still on vale and 
hill, 
On river and field and 
bog; 
The soft pale light of approach- 
ing night 
Through the fast deepening 
fog. 

A faint pink glow behind the 
row 
Of stately black hemlocks 
high. 
Is giving way before the 
gray 
That overcasts the 
sky. 

The wind's complaint is low 
and faint. 
The hemlock-trees moan 
and sigh ; 
The fog is deep, the hills 
asleep, 
And the long night draws 
nigh. 



I pop.] 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



281 



A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY INEZ HALE (AGE 9) 

I NEVER had a coasting adventure myself, but a friend of 
mine told me about one she had. 

One day in November her mother took her to see her 
aunt and uncle, who lived in Maine. She was to stay two 
months, so her cousins who lived there also, determined 
to give her a good time. 

The third day she was there they went coasting together. 
She sat on the back of Jack's sled while he steered it. 

They had just returned from a coast down when Jack's 
cap blew off and he went after it. He said to Margaret: 
" Hold the sled till I get back." She settled herself com- 
fortably and watched another sled go down. She had no 
sooner done this than a sudden gust of wind made her 
turn loose the rope to hold her hat on, and before she knew 
it the sled was shooting down the steep hill. 

She had presence of mind enough to cry out to Fred 
Eckles in front of her : "Look out!" 

He avoided the collision by catching at a near-by tree. 
The sled sped on. Margaret's hat fell off and her hair 
streamed wildly behind her. 

The sled had nearly reached the bottom when it swerved 
aside, caught on a rock, and stopped, leaving Margaret 
unhurt. 

"THE PROMISE OF HOPE" 

BY ELSA B. CARLTON CLARK (AGE I3) 

'T WAS the end of the year, and a mourner was wailing, 
A rainfall of tears o'er the sin of the past, 

And a wild wind of sighs, like a tempest, was heaving 
Through clouds of despair, that were gathering fast. 

With a past unforgiven, a present so dreary. 
No hope for the future, the mourner wept on ; 

A tempest of sorrow, a wailing so weary! 

All gladness, all promise for this life was gone. 

Yes, gone with the year whose death-bell was tolling; 

The year that was numbered with all that was gone, 
When brightly the chimes for the New-year came rolling, 

To bid the dead "Sleep! " and the living "Speed on! " 

Oh! blessed awakening! spirit of promise! 

To brighten the path which of late was despair. 
Thou hast, like the rainbow, bespanned a dark heaven 

With many-hued Hope, to rest lovingly there. 



a ^ 


M . 


♦A A 


4 



Nearly all of us had "Flexible Flyers " which we had 
received at Christmas and those who had not were promised 
rides from the lucky ones. 

When we reached our destination very few were there. 
The snow had drifted considerably and our usual coast 
was all bare brown grass, so we had to go sideways, en- 
dangering our clothes by passing near a barb wire fence. 
For some time we coasted with only our usual tumbles in 
the snow. 

Suddenly, three ladies came on skees. They had walked 
from Cambridge and were tired of standing, so offered to 





A HEADING. BY CARRIE F. MCDOWELL, AGE I3, 



A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY JOSEPHINE P. KEENE (AGE I4) 

{^Silver Badge) \ 

About a mile from my home are the golf links where we 
often go coasting. Six of us girls started off at eight one 
morning for a good time. The sun was dazzling on the 
white snow, but we plodded on unmindful of it. 
Vol. XXXVI. -36. 



"a HEADING." BY JEANNE UEMETRE, AGE 15. 

exchange their skees for sleds. The exchange was quickly 
made and they started off. One of them was on my new 
Flexible Flyer. 

The one to whom I had loaned my sled did n't think 
about steering with her hands, so grasped the rope tightly 
with both hands and tried to steer with her feet. 

But«6he lost her balance and rolled head over the sled 
down the hill, arriving unhurt at the bottom. 

Meanwhile we three girls on the skees were trying to 
get up courage to start down the hill. Suddenly one of us 
started unexpectedly, nearly running into a sled, also on 
its way down with its owner. 

Ruth, who was on the sled, turned quickly to the left, 
running into a barb-wire fence where she stuck while her 
sled went on. Very little damage was done considering 
the kind of a fence it was. 

There were, of course, one or two "barn-door rips " and 
several scratches, but nothing serious. Shortly after, we 
went home, tired and cold, but happy. 

THE PROMISE OF DAY 

BY MARJORIE MEEKER (AGE I4) 

In the far east a streak of yellow shows. 
Grows dim, then slowly changes into rose. 
Save for this strip of light amid the gray. 
No sign is shown of coming break of day. 
Silence enfolds the world, no sound is heard 
But the faint chirp of some awak'ning bird. 
Like sentinels, the trees loom straight and 

high. 
Branches, like arms, showing black against 

the sky. 

The light grows stronger, a faint, sighing 
breeze 

Stirs the still leaves upon the plants and trees. 
A soft expectancy is felt o'er all ; 
Nature seems waiting for some promised call 
To start the work and play of a long day. 
Hark! stillness is broken : a chorus gay 
Of birds and insects, each and ev'ry one 
Striving its best to greet the rising sun, — 
An emblem, smiling down on lands well-tilled, 
Of the bright promise of the day fulfilled. 



282 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



Qan., 



THE DREAM PROMISE 

BY DORIS F. HALMAN (AGE 12) 

When my dreamer goes to bed, 
And long shadows creep, 

Soft winds sigh 

Lullaby, 
Sleep, my dear one, sleep. 

Sweet, sweet dreams will come to thee. 
When the bright stars peep; 

I to you 

Promise true, 
Sleep, my dear one, sleep. 

Night her soft, dark mantle spreads. 
Dewy flowers weep ; 

Breezes blow, 

Murm'ring low. 
Sleep, my dear one, sleep. 

Now, I leave thee to thy rest, 
And my promise keep. 

Stars shall beam, 

Thou shalt dream, 
Sleep, my dear one, sleep. 

A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY ILVA CARMEN VAN SORDER (AGE I4) 

Maybe you think we have no coasting in Cuba because 
tiiere is no snow and the winters are not even cold; but 
give us a grassy hill, a sled made of the stem of the palm 
leaf called a " yagua" which is about five feet long by 
three feet wide, with a rounding bottom and curving front, 
and we are ready for fun. 

One day, when we lived out in the country on our 
" Finca," my brother Lloyd, myself, and our little black 
servant Jose were out in the field eating pineapples. "I 
wish we had our boards with us," said Lloyd; "just look 




"cattle." by DONALD F. CARLISLE, AGE 14. 

at that hill; but who wants to go back and get them ?" 
Then it was that Jose distinguished himself. " Why not 
use a ' yagua,' " said he. We .all agree it is the best thing 
ever. The hill is steep and covered with " espartilla," a 
very wiry grass and just the thing we want. I sit down 
under a big tree at the top of the hill and watch Lloyd and 
Jose ; they have to roll down the hill lots of times to get 
the course smooth. I am pleasantly occupied thinking of 



the stunts I am going to perform, when I hear a wild yell. 
I jump to my feet and come near pitching down the hill 
head first, again the yell ; it is Lloyd, he is still rolling, but 
pursued by wasps; he has run into a nest of wasps. Jos6 
has reached the bottom and is squealing with laughter ; 
this lasts until Lloyd brings up with a jerk beside him, 
then Jose begins to paw the air and the way he skinned up 
the opposite hill was wonderful. Of course the coasting 
for that day was over, and for several days Lloyd and Jose 
looked like a new and unheard-of race of Japanese. Of 
course I laughed after having gained safe distance and as 
Lloyd and Jose did n't seem to see the joke, I pretended 
I was laughing at Tito, our dog, who was also smitten 
by wasps and was dancing a wonderful highland-fling in 
the pineapple field. 

THE PROMISE 

BY JEANNETTE MUNRO (AGE I4) 

(^Silver Badge) 

When I awoke one lovely day. 

Crisp Autumn's breath was in the air ; 
Her beauty bright lay everywhere, 

All mirrored in the sparkling bay 
In changeful tints and colors rare. 

White clouds were sailing in a sky 
Of deepest, clearest azure hue. 
The pines stood dark against the blue 

And raised their twisted branches high, 
All sparkling with the morning's dew. 

A wood-bird sent her sweet, wild call 
From somewhere in the dark ravine, 
Where foliage was freshest green 

And, nestling in a cedar tall. 

Her vacant nest was plainly seen. 

A soft, sweet, vagrant Autumn breeze 

Came, rustling over where I lay. 

It made the brown-tipped grasses sway 
And whispered through tlie arching trees 

The promise of a perfect day. 

A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY THODA COCKROFT (AGE 16) 

{Gold Badge) 

It was summer-time in California. We were out "rough- 
ing it " near the Mt. Whitney region and one morning 
started before sunrise to climb a peak with an altitude of 
about 12,000 feet. 

It was a good pull up. The last mile was all through 
snow. I had never been in so much before, but had quite 
enough for once. It was crisp beneath our feet going up, 
but when we started down, it had melted considerably and 
was hard to walk on, so some one suggested coasting. 

I was afraid to try it at first, not being sure where I 
would land and rather dubious as to the temperature of the 
snow when one sat on it. Encouraged by the example of 
one of the party I sat down. Some one gave me a push — 
whiz — , I flew, rapidly descending below the summits of 
the snow-capped Sierras which surrounded me on all sides. 
I hardly knew whether I enjoyed it at that rate of speed, 
but declared afterward that it was just ^^ great." It sur- 
passed every slide or helter-skelter I had ever been on. 

Splash! ' what had happened? It took me several 

seconds to realize that I was up above my knees in freezing 
cold water, in a sort of a pit with banks of snow on all 
sides. I remembered then that I was cold, and that my 



ipog.] 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



283 



skirts were dripping wet, so I tried to get out by climbing 
up the slippery wall that I had slid down ; but the snow 
was so soft that it gave way each time I attempted it. 

The situation was becoming desperate before I discovered 
that I was in a creek and the covering of snow was very 
thin. I broke it away and walked down in the water 
where the banks were low. Here it was not hard to ex- 
tricate myself and once out, I ran the rest of the way 
down hill. At camp, the packer had built a rousing fire 
where we all dried ourselves and I told the outcome of my 
" Coasting Adventure." 

A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY LUCY A. DEWEY (AGE lO) 

One day last winter my sister, brother, and I had been 
coasting in Central Park. When we were coming home 
we met a party of boys who offered to draw our sled for 
us, but I saw what was passing through their minds, and 
said : 

" No, thank you, we are able to draw it ourselves." 

Then they pitched into us, and tried to take it by force, 
but a man came by and the boys ran away. 

We were walking along very slowly and the boys came 
at us again and knocked my sister and me down in the 
snow. I held on to the sled but my brother told me to let 
go ; sol did, and the boys ran away with the sled. 

Then we went out to Columbus Circle and got a mounted 
policeman. We described the boys, and he got two other 
policemen and they went after the boys and in about five 
minutes brought the boys and 
sled back. 

They did not prove to be so 
brave then as when they took 
the sled, for they all cried. The 
policemen brought two small 
boys who were not in the trouble, 
so they were sent away. There 
were left three or four big boys 
who kept making a great fuss. 

One policeman asked my 
brother whether he wanted the 
boys locked up or not. 

He talked it all over, and fi- 
nally said that he would let them 

go this time, but never again. After the policemen scolded 
the boys they sent them away. 

Then we- went home with the sleds, rather happy and 
excited. 

A PROMISE OF FULFILMENT 

BY MARY DE LORME VAN ROSSEM (AGE l6) 

{Gold Badge) 

The old year stood on the edge of the world, 

Feeble and faint and cold ; 
He sighed as the winter sun went down 

In a halo of misty gold. 

" I am weary and worn and my life is o'er ; 
I go to the Halls of the Past ; 
Yet I fain would be there when Winter, the King, 
Is vanquished by Spring-tide at last. 

" Though how can I know if Spring-tide will come 
And waken the earth with a song ? 
Nature will perish in Winter's embrace, 
If. forgetting, she tarries too long. 

" Last time she was late, and the New-year who comes 
Must remind her to haste on her way. 



Yet how will he know ? I would warn her myself, 
If Time would allow me to stay." 

The darkness descended, the hours sped by, 

Too quickly the night was spent. 
But a whisper was breathed from the dreaming trees 

As the old year turned and went. 

"The coming New-year fulfils your task, 
Your hopes are in him re-born. 
Go! rest in peace in the Halls of the Past, 
For lo! it is New-year's morn! " 

A COASTING ADVENTURE 

BY JEAN MASTEN (AGE 12) 

Down in lower Canada, which I always associate with 
snowshoes, toboggans, and skating, though I have no idea 
why, there is a long hill ending in a pond, of some length 
and width, though not of depth. In winter this hill freezes 
till it is almost a sheet of ice, and the pond below it, too. 
It is a favorite coasting hill. Toboggans, bobs, and sleds 
haunt it all day long, and on the Saturday of which I 
speak, it was crowded with every imaginable kind of sled, 
from trays to toboggans. One after another they went 
down, till at last a long, heavy bob gained its turn. There 
must have been ten people on it, the heavy load making it 
go splendidly till it reached the bottom, then crack! crack! 
splash! and with a chorus of shrieks the party landed in 
the shallow but icy water of the pond. But they had the 




BY MARJORIE 



sense to jump quickly out as another load came down the 
hill. In that way two or three loads came down and ended 
abruptly in the pond, for the smooth, glass-like surface of 
the hill offered no obstructions to the swift sleds. There 
was much laughter and joking as the poor, damp unfor- 
tunates toiled home for dry clothes, and the others on a 
search for a new slide. 



THE ROLL OF HONOR 

No 1. A list of those whose work would have been used had space 
permitted. 

No. 2. A Hst of those whose work entitles them to encouragement. 



VERSE, I 

Erma L. Merrill 
Eleanor Johnson 
Ruth Livingston 
Nell Adams 
Minna Lewinson 
Bertha E. Walker 
Ruth A. Burrell 
Dorothy Elaine Lucas 
Eleanor M, Sickels 
Theda Kenyon 
Augusta E. Chinnock 
Emmeline Bradshaw 
Helen E. Reed 
Lucile D. Woodling 
Edna van der Heide 
Geo. F, Peabody 



Nellie Goldsmith 
Elizabeth Toof 
Dorothy Gardiner 
Bonny S. McLean 

VERSE, 2 

Elizabeth A. Lay 
Julia Carr Ball 
Reginald Marsh 
Daisy Zaegel 
Mary A.Johnson 
John C. Farrar 
Miriam Abrams 
Marjorie Campbell 
Rosalind L. Herrmann 
Edith Sprague 
Agnes Gray 



Eleanor Forwood 
Geraldine Bousch 
Margaret T. Babcock 
Jean Darling 
Elsie C. Comstock 
Ethel Anna Johnson 
Cecelia Shapiro 
Helen J. McFarland 
Marjorie S. Harrington 
Margaret Schwinn 
Flora Thomas 
Rosabella Hollander 

PROSE, I 

J. Marguerita Dyer 
Irene Drury 
Annie .A.lpert 



284 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



Qan., 



Constance Winchell 
Allison K. Orbison 
Lavinia Jones 
Adeline Longaker 
Bernice Baker 
Louise M. Anawalt 
Therese Born 
Grace E. Moore 
Mary E. Dwight 
Helen C. Hughes 
Bernard L. Miller 
Rober . B. Carney 
Alma Ruth Mabrey 
Anna Halpert 
Charles A. McL.Vining 
Ruth Moore Morriss 
Erwin Esper 
Lorraine Voorhees 
Katharine Ames 
Eleanor B. Harvey 
Arthur E. Case 
Ida C. Khne 
Wm. B. Pressey 
Catharine D. 
Mackenzie 
Anna Hager Morris 
Moses Rosenstein 
Beatrice Schwartz 
Henry Webb Johnstone 
Judith S. Finch 
Willa Morton Roberts 
Walter C Strick>and 
Rachel McN. Talbott 



Eleanor Steward 

Cooper 
Rebecca Lazarus 
W. Gory Troeger 
M. Frederica Smith 
Alice Trimble 
Ralph Perry 
Bertha Wardell 
Gladys Grant 
Margery Livingston 
Benita Murphy 
Ethel L. Blood 
Helen Clift 

Rosalie W. Lichtenfels 
Aline Buchman 
Eleanor W. Garrett 
Katharine B. Nesmith 
Lucy B. Clarke 
Roy Stewart 
Alice I. Gilman 
Alice B. Drew 
Elizabeth F. Abrams 
Agnes Davidson 
Dorritt Stumberg 
Jeannette Thompson 
Edwina Chase 
Blanche Deuel 
Vera M. Douglass 
Dorothy Ester 
Rose Shapiro 
Dorothy 1. Snyder 
Wm, G. Kirschbaum 
Delia Arnstein 




Mary Porcher 
Karl N. Ehricke 
Barbara Streathfield 
Floyd Whltmore 
Dorothy Gardner 
Martin H. Smith 
Grace Stanley Byrne 
Robert Lee 
Helen J. Coates 
Dorothy Billings 
Howard Henderson 
Marion Seip 
G. E. Papazian 
Elfrida Nagel 
Alice Bolhwell 
Miriam Spitz 
Frances H. Steen 
Marjorie Acker 
Estelle Morris 
Gladys Nolan 
Margaret Foster 
O. Tabor 
Eunice L. Hone 
Lucia E. Halstead 
Helen E. Fernald 
Hugh Albert 

Cameron 
Joan D. Clowes 
Margaret Osborne 
Wm. McK. Robson 
Helen Parfitt 
Margaret Rhodes 
Margaret Roalfe 
Hugo Greenbaum 
Cuthbert W. Haasis 

DRAWINGS, 2 

Champion Streathfield 
Muriel Winter 
Josephine Bancroft 
Margery Reneau 

Dawson 
Charlotte P. Edwards 
Albert Joseph Kerr 
Marion Travis 
Alice B. Sawtelle 
Rosalie M. Carey 
Christine Rowley 

Baker 



Rudolph Krause 
Constance G. Wilcox 
Alpha Rulison 
Bessie B. Styron 
Natalie M. Obrig 
Margaret Barr 
Nellie Hogan 
Maurice C. Johnson 
Fanny G. Schweinfurth 
Helen Underwood 

PHOTOGRAPHS, i 

Rolla H. Hedges 
Alma C. Burleson 
Augusta McCagg 
Irene Jamieson 
Jack Perrin 
Katharine Williams 
Lee Shakum 
Cornelia N. Walker 
Fred Dohrmann 
Wm. M. Conaut, Jr. 
Thelma L. Kellogg 
Lucile Phillips 
Frederick A. Brooks 
Ellen K. Hone 
Walter Spriggs 
Dorothy Arnold 



'a heading. by priscilla bohlen, age 14. 



Josephine P. Keene 
Inez Hall _ 
Estelle Ewing 
Roda Cocroft 
Ilva C. Van Sarter 
Chas. T. Grimmer 
Jean Mashen 
Caroline W. Munro 
Helen M. Hamilton 
Norine Mean 



PROSE, 2 

Gustav Deichmann 
Jennie Olera May 
Helen Kindred 
Elizabeth A. 

McGlathery 
Louise Pettingell 
Alison Hastings 
Helen Katharine Smith 
Virginia Stone Harrison 
Eleanor H. Miller 
Caroline H- Pemberton 
Fanny T. Marburg 
Elizabeth McConnell 
A. Reynolds Eckel 



Eleanor G. Boyd 
Anthony Crawford 
Elizabeth Campbell 
Evelyn Kent 
Alice G. Peirce 
Helen Virginia Frey 
Marjorie M. Farnum 
Anita Lynch 
Alice M. Forsaith 
Ruth Merritt Erdman 
Leslie W. Rowland 
Florence Steinbrenner 
Dorothy Donogh 
Mildred White 
Lorraine Ransom 
EUzabeth Madoy. 
Lucile L. Chase 
Ruth E. Jones 



DRAWINGS, I. 

Julia Smith Marsh 
Mamie Budah 
Helen C. Otis 
Helen M. Peck 
Lenora Howarth 
Chrystine Wagner 



Priscilla H. Fowle 
Hodge Jones 
SaUie P. Wood 
Jeannett Jacoby 
Margaret Truesdell 
Doris Huestis 
Marion Coons 
Elizabeth L. Hess 
Lucy May Hanscomb 
Genevieve McClure 
Belle Scheuer 
Elizabeth M. Mercer 
Madeleine P. Kelly 
A. Carroll Miller 
Louise Converse 
Hazel S. Halsted 
Eileen R. Reed 
Joseph Auslander 
Jean McGilorn 
Isabel S. Allen 
Helen B. Walcott 
Mary Home 
Emma Thorp 
EUzabeth D. Comfort 
Edward Goldberg 
Florence Mallett 
Lillian Manny 
Elizabeth Eckel 



PHOTOGRAPHS, 2 

Margaretta C. Johnson 
John H. Hill 
Helen G. Browne 
Aimi6 Hutchinson 
Ellen A. Johnson 
Constance Ayer 
Corinne J. Gladding 
Gertrude L. Amory 
Antoinette N. Burk 
Mary Collester 
Hester Matthews 
R6th Cushman 
Helen C Culin 
Jas. D. Tilghman 
Elsa Tueber 
Dorothy W. Haasis 
Chas. E. Ames 
Lionel Samuel 
Tusie R. Falconer 
E. Grant Ware 
Chas. B. Hone 
Euzelle Allen 
Alexander 

Cronkhite 
Mila Treat 
David Robinson, Jr. 



PUZZLES, I 

Fred von Heimburg 
Cecelia Gerson 
Frances Maughlin 
Robert F. Summers 
Marjorie Lachmund 
James A. Lynd 
Grace E. Kennedy 
Cassius M. Clay, Jr. 
Allan Cole 
Dorothy Fox 
Ellen E. Williams 
Gertrude J. Reid 
Beulah Knox 
Walter J. Ducey 
Amy Bradish Johnson 
PhyUis Hope Eland 
Elinor Clark 

PUZZLES, 2 

Emmaline Sizer 
Anna K. Stimson 
Jennie Lowenhaupt 
Mary Clark 
Louise Briggs 
A. G. Bush 
A. B. David 



ROLL OF THE CARELESS 

NO AGE. Arthur Sherborne, Ellen Coleman, Dorothy Dawson. 
NO ADDRESS. Herbert Horsford, Joseph Auslander, O. Barnett. 
NOT INDORSED. Madeleine Hoopes, Florence Fisher, Lynda 
Billings. 
DRAWING IN PENCIL. Mamie Budah. 

CHAPTER LIST 

No. 1075. President, Dorothy Ballard; Secretary, Nanna Lake; 
six members. 

No. 1076. President, Mary Cowling; Secretary, Marjorie Jardine ; 
seven members. 

No. 1077. "Happy Hour Club." President, Lillian Barnes; Vice- 
President, Ethel Gibson; Secretary, Dorothy Van Zile; six members. 

No. 1078. "Golden Star League." President, Earl Denison ; Vice- 
President, Emma Williams; Secretary, MaryChilty; Treasurer, Ruth 
Barthel; thirty-one members. 

No. 1079. "The Home Chapter." President, Gwendolin E. Web- 
ster; Vice-President, Grace M. Borst : Secretary, Anthony Dey, Jr.; 
Treasurer, Alfred Joseph; seven members. 

No. 1080. "I. S. C. Chapter." President, Florence Storms; Sec- 
retary, Robert T. Summers ; three members. 

No. 1081. "Young Citizens." President, Morris Price ; Secretary, 
Benjamin Fenster; seven members. 

No. 1082. "Yale Chapter." President, Edith Meyer; Secretary, 
Harriet Gardner ; seven members. 

No. 1083. " Ganowski Bay Chapter." Chief, Marjorie Sewell ; 
Medicine Man, Anna K. Stimson; Big Hunter, Marjorie Meyer; 
seven members. 

No. 1084. "Ohio Chapter." President, Alexander Chaskin; Secre- 
tary, Morris Behrendt; twelve members, 

LEAGUE LETTERS 

Paris, France. 
Dear St. Nicholas League : I am so sorry that I cannot send in a 
contribution this month, but I have no india ink and as we are travel- 
ing there will be no time to buy any. So I thought I would write you 
a letter instead. I am over here in Europe with my mother, father, and 
brother, for the winter. At present I am in Paris, and have been for a 
little over a week. But we expect to leave on Tuesday of next week, 
for Ouchy in Switzerland where I am going to boarding-school. I 
expect to have no end of fun, as there is coasting, skating, and va- 
rious other outdoor sports of which I am very fond. We c'ame over 
from New York in the Rotterdam, the beautiful new boat of the Hol- 
land-American Line. I had a splendid time on board and was sorry to 
leave. We landed at Boulogne Sur Mer, which is certainly a quaint 
old town. The houses are built on steep hillsides, so that they rise 
one above another, and the effect is very amusing. I thought the train 
we went in from Boulogne to Paris was very odd after our great big 
ones. But they certainly go pretty fast. Since I have been in Paris I 
have seen Versailles, which I thought was very interesting, especially 
theprivate apartments of the Dauphin and poor Marie Antoinette, Saint- 
Cloud, which, as you probably know, are the beautiful gardens of Na- 
poleon the First, Napoleon's tomb, and the Louvre. We have also 
seen " Faust" at "The" Opera House which I liked ever so much. I 
like Paris very much, but not as much as my own native city, Phila- 
delphia. Next summer we expect to travel through Italy, Germany, 
England, and, if we have time, Ireland. I will write to you again and 



1 909.1 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



285 



tell you all about my trip. I am taking you this year, dear St. Nich- 
olas, and am having you sent over here, for I could not do without 
you for a whole year, and the rest of the family like you as much 
as I do. I remain your devoted reader and subscriber, 

Christine Rowley Bakek (age 14). 

Santiago, Chile. 
Dear St. Nicholas League : Day before yesterday we had mail, 
and my badge came. 

I danced a jig and have worn it (the badge, not the jig) since. 

One of my friends is going to write to you for a badge, I think. She 
does n't take the magazine but we can trade the magazine off and on. 

I live too far away to compete, but I can send in puzzles. I am still 
thinking out the time it would take a " Heading " if madein February 
to reach there in a certain month. 

This afternoon I am going to recite " The Cruise of the /z]ja?Kar^^" 
for "Dumb Crambo." 

My father is the director of the Observatory here. 

On the hill where the dome is, is another peak. On this is an im- 
mense statue of the Virgin. 

I remain your reader, 

Margaret Curtis. 

Sioux Falls, South Dakota. 
Dear St. Nicholas League : As I have only taken you a year I 
like you very much and will always take you till I am too old, and 
I shall be sorry when I get eighteen years old for I like the League. I 
enjoy your stories and the League the most. 

I have just one pet, he is a dog, his name is Cap. He came from 
Scotland. I think a good deal of him, and I should feel very badly if 
anything should happen to him. I used to have cats and a pony. I 
love all kinds of animals, wild or tame. 

Affectionately yours, your interested reader, 
Eugenie Wuest (age 12). 

Irvington, N. Y. 
Dear St. Nicholas League: After having been a constant reader 
of you I have decided to become a member of your League. By this 
same mail I am sending you a contribution. It is only my second at- 
tempt so I do not expect very successful results. 

Although I live in a small town it contains a beautiful building called 
the "Town Hall." Several times I have been in plays in this building. 




"a heading." by Carrie blake, age 14. 

Near my home are very interesting places, among them, Washing- 
ton Irving's home, "Sunnyside." Another interesting place is Mr. 
Russell Hopkins's collection of wild animals which is the largest private 
menagerie in the world. One of Miss Helen Gould's estates, called 
" Lyndhurst," is also very near. A farm-house where Washington 
stayed overnight, Sleepy Hollow cemetery, and Andre's monument 
are also near. My companions and I do not think this very wonder- 
ful, but when we look back we see that we are lucky people to live in 
such an interesting district. 

Now I must ask you to send me a badge and leaflet. So thanking 
you beforehand for these, I remain 

Your devoted reader, 

Marg.aret L. Creighton. 

Aberdeen, Idaho. 
Dear St. Nicholas League : I have taken you four months and 
like you very much. 

We, my two sisters, my brother, father, mother, and myself, live in 
the Snake River Valley, where it was i.othing but a sage-brush desert 
until they built the big canal to irrigate the land. 

For pets we have a pony, a dog, four cats, and some poultry, to say 
nothing of a big team. 

We are so far from a school that mother teaches the three oldest her- 
self. I like all your stories very much, especially those by Mr. 
Barbour. "Harry's Island" is fine. I am so glad Mr. Barbour 
wrote a sequel to it. Your interested reader, 

Gertrude Latimer (age 9). 



P , Maine. 

Dear St. Nicholas League: My sister and I have taken you for a 
long time. Every Christmas one of our presents is a subscription to 
St. Nicholas for one year. 

I joined the League this year and the first contribution I sent, my 
name was on the Roll of Honor, which is very encouraging. 

We spent the summer on an island in Casco Bay near Portland, 
Maine. One of the islands here is owned by Captain Peary. We 
were near there in the early part of the summer, and saw his vessel 
start from there for the North Pole. Some of the people in our hotel 
sailed out to see the boat, but as it was late at night we could not go. 
Captain Peary's island is called Eagle Island, and he and his family 
have spent some summers there. 

I am a great, great granddaughter of Francis Scott Key, who wrote 
the " Star-Spangled Banner." 

I remain your interested reader, 

Joanna Leigh Lloyd (age 13). 

PRIZE COMPETITION No. Ill 

The St. Nicholas League awards gold and silver badges 
each month for the best original ^lonns, stories, drawings, 
photographs, puzzles, and puzzle answers. Also cash 
prizes of five dollars each to gold-badge winners who shall 
again win first place. "Wild Creature Photography" 
prize-winners winning another prize will not receive a 
second gold badge. 

Competition No. Ill will close January 10 (for foreign 
members January 15). Prize announcements to be made 
and selected contributions to be published in St. Nicholas 
for May. 

Verse. To contain not more than twenty-four lines. 
Title to contain the words "The Growing Year." 

Prose. Story or article of not more than four hundred 
words. Subject, "My Garden." 

Photograph. Any size, mounted or unmounted ; no 
blue prints or negatives. Two subjects : 1st, A photo- 
graph taken indoors (a room, still-life or portrait). 2d, 
The most typical winter scene in your city or town. 

Drawing. India ink, very black writing-ink, or wash. 
Two subjects, "My Favorite Amusement" and a May 
(1909) Heading or Tail-piece. Drawings to reproduce 
well should be larger than they are intended to appear, but 
League drawings should not be made on paper or card 
larger than nine by thirteen inches. 

Puzzle. Any sort, but must be accompanied by the an- 
swer in full, and must be indorsed. 

Puzzle Answers. Best, neatest, and most complete set 
of answers to puzzles in this issue of St. Nicholas. 
Must be indorsed and must be addressed as explained on 
the first page of the "Riddle-box." 

Wild Animal or Bird Photograph. To encourage the 
pursuing of game with a camera instead of a gun. For 
the best photograph of a wild animal or bird taken in its 
natural home: First Prize, five dollars and League gold 
badge. Second Prize, three dollars and League gold badge. 
Third Prize, League gold badge. Fourth Prize, League 
silver badge, 

RULES 
Any reader of Sr. Nicholas, whether a subscriber or not, 
is entitled to League membership, and a League badge and 
leaflet, which will be sent free. No League member over 
eighteen years old may enter the competitions. 

Every contribution, of whatever kind, mtcst bear the 
name, age, and address of the sender, and be indorsed as 
"original" by parent, teacher, or guardian, u<lio must be 
convinced beyond doubt that the contribution is not copied, 
but wholly the work and idea of the sender. If prose, the 
number of words should also be added. These things 
must not be on a separate sheet, but 07t the contribittion 
itself— \i a manuscript, on the upper margin ; if a picture, 
on the 7!iargin or back. Write or draw on one side of the 
paper only. A contributor may send but one contribution 
a month — not one of each kind, but one only. 
Address : The St. Nicholas League, 

Union Square, New York. 



THE LETTER-BOX 



Here is a page of letters from St. Nicholas readers, all 
written, as it happens, from Spanish speaking countries. 

Guatemala. 
Dear St. Nicholas: I have taken you for nearly a year 
and you are very interesting to me. 

I have never written to you, so I thought I would write 
and tell you something of Guatemala City, where I live. 

It is a beautiful place situated in a valley about a mile 
above the sea level ; the city is surrounded by mountains. 

On one side are three beautiful volcanos, " Mount 
Agua," "Mount Fuego," and "Mount Pacalla," when 
the sun sets behind them it is a beautiful scene. 

The streets are always full of Indians dressed in bright 
colors bringing in fruits and vegetables and live chickens 
from the pueblos. 

They do not walk like other people, they trot, and hold 
themselves very straight. 

They sell their things in the market back of the cathedral. 

There is a plaza in front of the cathedral where bare- 
footed soldiers drill every morning at lo o'clock, and the 
band plays nicely. 

Your loving reader, 
Dorothy H. Herlihy (age 12^). 



PocHUTA, Guatemala. 
Dear St. Nicholas : We can't read English yet, only 
Spanish, but are going to very soon, for though my sisters 
translate your stories to us, they say they are not half so 
nice as when you read them yourself. 

Your loving friends and future readers, 
Carlos Sanchez (age 9). 
RiCARDO Sanchez (age 7). 



Island of Guam. 
Dear St. Nicholas: I don't believe many of your other 
readers ever heard of Guam, so I will describe it. It is a 
little island thirty by ten miles, belonging to the Ladrone 
group and about the only ships coming through here are 
the army transports ; it is two weeks' journey from Hono- 
lulu and six days' journey from Manila. I have lived here 
for nearly two years as my father is commander of marines. 

There are about three hundred white people here counting 
the marines and the sailors on the U. S. S. Supply. Guam 
is shaped like a stocking with a shallow lagoon or coral reef 
all around it, so that all the provisions from the transports 
have to be brought in through the channel by lighters, towed 
by launches. 

The landing-place is called Piti and there is a beautiful 
road close to the beach which goes from there to Agana 
(the naval station and capital), with about 9000 inhabitants. 

Tlie people are civilized and live by fishing and working 
for the government. At night it is very interesting to 
watch them fish inside the reef with torches. 

The only animal we have here that you don't have at 
home is the carabou, which is used for hauling purposes. 
It is a big, fat animal with large horns and very little hair, 
more like a cow than anything else, yet very unlike it in 
some ways. It loves to wallow in the mud and when it 
comes out looks as if it would make an elegant toboggan 
slide. 

The chief tree here is the cocoanut palm and you would 
laugh to see me go up it. 

There are schools here for the natives but as I 'm the 
only American child I study at home. For amusement I 
ride horse-back, drive, sail, and do various other things. 

Guam is most important for its cable station. 



We had fine celebrations on the 4th of July and there 
was great excitement when the battle-ships Mame and 
Alabama came in, as they were the first battle-ships the 
natives had ever seen. 

I was very much interested in "Harry's Island" and 
" The Gentle Interference of Bab." 

I am your interested reader, 

Beatrice M. Moses. 



If any St. Nicholas readers have wanted their parents to 
move into a newer house, think of the two little girls who 
write the two following letters, who live in houses which 
are, one, two hundred and the other four hundred years old. 
But it is only fair to remember that these are historic houses, 
connected with the early history of America. It is no 
wonder, then, that these two young friends delight in hav- 
ing such old houses for their homes. 

Havana, Cuba. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I am a subscriber from Cuba. I 
wonder if many boys and girls take the St. Nicholas in 
Cuba. 

I live in an old Spanish palace built more than two hun- 
dred years ago. The floors and staircases are of pure 
white marble and the windows are ten feet high and six 
feet wide and six feet deep and iron barred. There is also 
a private chapel and two big "patios." The house is three 
stories high and has about eighty rooms and belonged to the 
Count of San Fernando. The coat-of-arms is painted in 
the hall. 

On the opposite side of the street is the old cathedral 
where once the bones of Colurnbus lay. I can hear now 
the big organ and the chanting of the priests; the odor of 
incense blows in the window. 

I belong to the Cuban Band of Mercy and am a charter 
member; we also have a Refuge for lost animals. I love 
animals and have six cats, a big dog, and a raccoon. 
From an interested reader, 

Ilva Carmen Van Sorder. 



San Juan, Porto Rico. 
Dear St. Nicholas : I am a little army girl and I want 
to tell you about the quaint old house we live in now. It 
is very old indeed. It was built by Ponce de Leon four 
hundred years ago. It has twenty-seven large rooms, 
with very high ceilings, upheld by heavy beams, as all old 
Spanish houses are built. It is on San Juan harbor and 
is higher than any house in San Juan. It has a beautiful 
old Spanish garden, very different from our gardens in 
America and in it are many cocoanut palms, besides a gor- 
geous flamboyant tree, which, when in bloom, looks as if it 
were on fire. This house is called " Casa Blanca," mean- 
ing "White House" audit has a flat roof where we love 
to go when it is very warm. The views from there are 
most beautiful. I have taken you for three years, in the 
Philippines, Japan, America, and Porto Rico. I enjoy read- 
ing you very much. 

The picture shows the harbor that Ponce de Leon sailed 
through on his way to Florida in search of the " fountain 
of youth," of which I expect most of St. Nicholas 
readers know. I have one little sister named Mary and 
she was born in Alaska. 

Your loving reader, 
Grace Hulbert Wilson (age 11). 



ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE DECEMBER NUMBER 



Primal Acrostic. Ethan Allen. Cross-words: i. Esther. 2. 
Talons. 3. Harrow. 4. Amanda. 5. Nobody. 6. Africa. 7. Limber. 
8. Listen. 9. Errors. 10. Nimble. 

A Holiday Pie. Begin at the " t " under the word " Pie " and go 
to the left, skipping three letters each time. In this way may be 
spelled out "Thanksgiving Day, turkey, pumpkin-pie." 

Christmas Numerical Enigma. "There 's not a flower on all the 
hills, the frost is on the pane." 

Historical Zigzag. Zigzag, Trafalgar; i to 13, Admiral Nelson. 
Cross-words: i. Thapsus. 2. Francis. 3. Granada. 4. Afghans. 5. 
Amboise. 6. Blucher. 7. Magenta. 8. Raleigh. 9. Romulus. 

A Diagonal. Diabolo. Cross-words: i. Dominos. 2. Biscuit. 
3. Fragile. 4. Cabbage. 5. Diploma. 6. Engaged. 7. Claudio. 

Illustrated Numerical Enigma. The yearly _course that brings 
this day about shall never see it but a holiday. King John. 

Primal Acrostic. Washington's Birthday. Cross-words: z. 
Weazen. 2. Accrue. 3. Saturn. 4. Haggis. 5. Imbrue. 6. Nereid. 



7. Galaxy. 8. Tendon. 9. Oolite. 10. Nether. 11. Sample. 12. 
Beacon. 13. Inning. 14. Recent. 15. Tattle. 16. Halter. 17. Dandle. 
18. Astute. 19. Yarrow. 

Connected Squares. From i to 2, peerless, I. i. Snap. 2. Nice. 
3. Acre. 4. Peer. II. i. Less. 2. Emeu. 3. Sear. 4. Sure. 

Transpositions. Henry D, Thoreau. i. Earth, heart. 2. Greet, 
egret. 3. Means, names. 4. Glare, regal. 5. Gayer, yager. 6. 
Armed, dream. 7. Rated, trade. 8. Marsh, harms. 9. Topic, optic. 
10. Siren, reins. 11. Crete, erect. 12. Paens, aspen. 13. Lunar, 
ulnar. 

Charade. You-nigh-Ted-states, United States. 

Endless Chain, i. Erin. 2. Inly. 3. Lyra. 4. Racy. 5, Cyma. 
6. Maze. 7. Zeus. 8. Used. 9. Edit. 10. Item. 11. Emew. 
12. Ewer. 13. Erin. 1 

Novel Acrostic. Initials, George Eliot; third row, Silas Warner. 
Cross-words: i. Gusts. 2. Elite. 3. Ollas. 4. Ready. 5. Gases. 
6. Emmet. 7. Elate. 8. Large. 9. Inner. 10. Ocean. 11. Tares. 



To our Puzzlers: Answers to be acknowledged in the magazine must be received not later than the 15th of each month, and should be ad- 
dressed to St. Nicholas Riddle-box, care of The Century Co., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City. 

Answers to ALL THE Puzzles in the October Number were received before October 15th from Willie Lyman Lloyd, Jr. — "Queens- 
court "—Frances — Mclver — W. H. B. Allen, Jr.— Jo and I — Dorothy Haug. 

Answers TO Puzzles in the October Number were received before October 15th from F. H. Ingram, 2 — Edna Meyle, 7 — Mabel C. 
Franke, 8 — Helen Cohen, 2 — Marjorie Winrod, 4 — Alice H. Farnsworth, 5 — David Mayer, 4 — Vera and Lucile Retan, 8 — Alfred J. Bush, 9 — 
Katherine B. Carter, 9 — Charlotte L. Patch, 3 — Anita Henriquez, 9— Leonor Mayer, 9 — Everet Maclachlan, 4. The following sent answers to 
one puzzle; R. Mann— C. IngersoU— A. A. Russell— J. E. Russell— M. Witherbee— H. Brewster— E. Hardin. 



DOUBIiE DIAGONAL 

All the words described contain the same nunniber of let- 
ters. When rightly guessed and written one below another 
the diagonal, from the upper, left-hand letter to thelower, 
right-hand letter, will spell the surname of a famous French 
writer ; and the diagonal, from the upper, right-hand letter 
to the lower, left-hand letter will spell the surname of an 
English writer. 

Cross-words: i. A singer. 2. Dampness. 3. One 
of the muses. 4. Fighting. 5. Something which may 
lawfully be sent by mail. 6. Snarling. 7. An opening. 
8. Evening. 

CECELIA GERSON (League Member). 

CONNJECTED SQUARES AND DIAMONDS 

{Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition) 



II. Upper Right-hand Square : i. A journal. 2. 
To decrease. 3. A Turkish governor. 4. A feminine 
name. 5. A kingdom. 

III. Upper Diamond: i. In grants. 2. Part of the 
head. 3. A sword. 4. A color. 5. In grants. Lower 
Diamond: i. In grants. 2. A partner. 3. A celebrated 
Greek physician of long ago. 4. Guided. 5. In grants. 

IV. Left Middle Square: i. A blemish. 2. At- 
tention. 3. Surface. 4. To gather. 

V. Right Middle Square: i. To distribute. 2. 
Comfort. 3. Inquires. 4. Smaller. 

VI. Lower Left-hand Square: i. A jewel. 2. 
Weird. 3. A place of public contest. 4. Resounds. 5. 
To let. 

VII. Lower Right-hand Square:' 
2. The after song. 3. A beverage. 4. 
Barm. 

HESTER gunning. 



I. To insnare. 
Perfumes. 5. 



* * ■>:- * 



• • • 




* 










* 




■ • • 




* 


•X- 


* 


• • • 


* 


* 

■X- 


* 
* 
» 


* 


-x- 



I. Upper Left-hand Square: i. Lean. 1. An 
Egyptian dancing girl. 3. A dark brown color. 4. An old 
word meaning to sneeze. 5. A number. 



HISTORICAL, ZIGZAG 

{Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition) 

All the words described contain the same number of let- 
ters. When rightly guessed and written one below another, 
take the first letter of the first word, the second letter of 
the second word, the first letter of the third, the second of 
the fourth, and so on. The letters will spell the name of a 
famous Athenian statesman and commander. 

Cross-words: i. A maiden beloved by Pyramus. 2. 
A son of Erebus. 3. A character in "Othello." 4. A 
character in "As You Like It." 5. One of the ten Attic 
orators. 6. The greatest of the Hebrew prophets. 7. The 
name of a war waged for ten years by the confederated 
Greeks under Agamemnon. 8. A famous people of long 
ago. 9. A famous general of that people, born loo B.C. 
ID. A character in "The Tempest." 11. A college at 
Oxford founded by Walter de Stapeldon. 12. One of tlie 
gods of Egyptian mythology. 

ALAN DUDLEY BUSH. 



287 



288 



THE RIDDLE-BOX 




ILLUSTRATED CENTRAL ACROSTIC 

Each of the nine objects shown in the above illustration 
may be described by one word. When the nine words (of 
equal length) have been rightly guessed and written one 
below another, the middle letters will spell the name of an 
eighteenth-century writer who was born on January 1st. 

CONNECTED SQUARES 

{Gold Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition) 



I. Upper Left-hand Square: i. A flambeau. 2.. 
The beginning of a seed. 3. Hearsay. 4. To obscure. 
5. Droves of cattle. Adjoining Square : I. To scrutinize. 
2. A staff. 3. A feminine name. 4. Trim. 

II. Upper Right-hand Square: i. Something 
worn around the neck. 2. To skip. 3. A fruit. 4. 
Lighted again. 5. Chafes. Adjoining Square: I. A 



skilled cook. 2. To possess. 3. Always. 4. A feathery 
plant. 

III. Central Square: i. A pilferer. 2. A serpent 
slain by Hercules. 3. An imbecile. 4. To eat away. 5. 
The goddesses of destiny. 

IV. Lower Left-hand Square: i. A ledge. 2. 
A wretched dwelling. 3. To elude. 4. A shelf. 5. 
Nimble. Adjoining Square : I. Deficient in hearing. 2. 
A nobleman. 3. Surface. 4. A standard. 

V. Lower Right-hand Square: i. Mud. 2. A 
fabric made from flax. 3. Sluggish. 4. To swallow up. 
5. To go in. Adjoining Square: i. A native of Scotland. 
2. A grotto. 3. Part of a stove. 4. Groups of figures. 

ISABELLE B. MILLER. 

DOUBLE BEHEADINGS 

{Silver Badge, St. Nicholas League Competition) 

I. Doubly behead to cut in half, and leave a denomina- 
tion. 2. Doubly behead a cup or bowl, and leave a feminine 
name. 3. Doubly behead a part of speech, and leave 
another part of speech. 4. Doubly behead a bird, and 
leave finished. 5. Doubly behead upright, and leave a 
bird's home. 6. Doubly behead a stigma, and leave a com- 
mon article. 7. Doubly behead to shriek, and leave a cer- 
tain quantity of paper. 8. Doubly behead to rove about in 
a stealthy manner, and leave a bird. 9. Doubly behead to 
set free, and leave to let. 10. Doubly behead a thong of 
leather, and leave a tree. 

When the ten words have been rightly beheaded, the 
initials of the remaining words will spell the name of a 
great reformer. ELEANOR MARGARET warden. 

CHARADE 

y\Y first in everything you '11 find. 
My second diplomats should mind ; 
Though with the hardest work you cope 
You will remain my whole, I hope. 

MARY D. BAILEY (League Member). 



the DE VINNE press, new YORK. 



ST. NICHOLJS ADVERTISEMENTS 




Beauty's Favorite 



The article which excels all others in improving the beauty of 
the skin is naturally and deservedly beauty's favorite. This 
has been the acknowledged and honored position held by Pears' 
Soap for nearly 120 years. 

It won, and has maintained, that position by virtue of its com- 
plete purity, and by the possession of those emollient properties 
which soften, refine and impart natural color to the skin. No 
other soap possesses these qualities in such a pre-eminent degree as 

Pears' Soap 



Jan. 1909 



■ A i\ rj^-/iis secicred." 

OF ALL SCENTED SOAPS PEARS' OTTO OF ROSE IS THE BEST. 



%# 



SL Nicholas Leagtie Advertising Competition No. 85. 



Time to harid in answers is up January lO. Prizes awarded in March nutnber. 



COMPETITION FOR JANUARY NUMBER. 

The pattering of the reindeer's hoofs on the roof has 
scarcely died away before the Judges and the Competi- 
tors hear the New Year bells, pealing out a welcome 
to igog, the very newest of all New Years! 

And Judges and Children, and men and women, all 
begin asking themselves and each other the old ques- 
tion, "What are you going to do with it? " 

The Judges being pretty shrewd old fellows, accus- 
tomed to making- plans a long way ahead, will answer 
this question for you — "You are going to have lots to 
do in the Advertising Competitions this year, — and 
lots of fun doing it." 

Of course you will have to study some, but the work 
will not be hard, and the prizes are good enough to try 
for. You may, under all this fun and scramble for 
prizes, learn something. Don't be alarmed at that. 
It won't hurt you. 

DOUBLE PRIZES FOR THE JANUARY 
COMPETITION. 

Just take the advertising pages of the December or 
January numbers of St. Nicholas, or any other num- 
bers issued in igoS-g, and write to the advertisers, 
inquiring the price of the articles, where you can obtain 
them, what the quality is, and any other question that 
is sensible, and that you think touches their interest. 
Of course you know that all these advertisers have 
their announcements in St. Nicholas because they 
want you to know about their goods. Therefore they 
will be glad to tell you about them, the same as they 
would any other possible buyer. 

After you have received the responses, send to the 
Judges copies of all your letters to the advertisers, their 
replies, and with them the best account you can write 
of your experiences in getting the information. 

Prizes will be awarded on the following points: 



1st. 
2nd. 

3rd. 

4th. 



Industry in seeking the information. 
The businesslike tone of your letters to ad- 
vertisers. 

The amount of information you have been able 
to get advertisers to give you, and 
The intelligent treatment of the case in your 
letter to the Judges in which you inclose all 
of the correspondence in the case. 

And remember, Eager Competitors, that the adver- 
tisers are very nice, kind gentlemen, but they don't 
want to answer foolish questions. They are fond of 
St. Nicholas, and are delighted to answer all sincere 
questions put to them by St. Nicholas readers. 

So get to work. Study your letters to the advertis- 
ers, and let us see what you can do in the business 
world. 



One First Prize of $io 

Two Second Prizes of 6 each 

Three Third Prizes of 4 each 

Five Fourth Prizes of i each 

Eleven prizes in all. 



$39 



A Happy New Year to You All! 



1. This competition is open freely to all who may desire 
to compete, without charg^e or consideration of any kind. 
Prospective contestants need not be subscribers for St. 
Nicholas in order to compete for the prizes offered. 

2. In the upper left-hand corner of your paper, give name, age, 
address, and the number of this competition (85). Judges prefer 
that the sheet be not larger than 75^ x 10 inches. 

3. Submit answers by January 25, 1909. Use ink. Do not in- 
close stamps. 

4. Do not inclose request for League badges or circulars. Write 
separately for these if you wish them, addressing ST. NICHOLAS 
LEAGUE. 

5. Be sure to comply with these conditions if you wish to win 
prizes. 

6. Address answers: Advertising Competition No. 85, St. Nich- 
olas League, Union Square, New York, N. Y. 

REPORT ON ADVERTISING COMPETITION 
No. 83. 

The Advertising Manager invites you all to come 
and sit down by his desk in The Century office this 
morning. Now watch over his shoulder while he looks 
over the great pile of pictures, and catch-phrases, and 
stories, that came in response to his request, back in 
November, for help in advertising St. Nicholas. 

Then you will see why he is pleased and gratified. 
Thinking that your father and mother, and uncle, or 
Grandma would like to be here too, to see, suppose we 
print some of them right here on this page Well, 
which shall we take ? Here is a letter which, even if it 
did not win a prize, is too good to lose — a letter from 
an appreciative Grandmamma in Denver. After she 
has told us how her magazine is read by twenty-two 
people, grown-ups and children too, she says "It is 
the Veribest Treasure-book for children of all ages." 
Then Miss Myrtle Conrad, who lives in Florida, says 
" The baby trots around with it; — and even the doctor 
finds time to read it, and says it is good for the mind 
to read such stories." 

Oh, here is a drawing that came pretty close to tak- 
ing a prize. 



\lIkEM TKE 



S^NICHBLAS 



CDH£S 



10 



Competition Judges. 

(See also page 12) 




ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



Old Clothes Made New with Diamond Dyes 




"Save me $100.00 a Year" 



" Once every so often I have what I call my Diamond Dye Days. I usually wait until the children 
need some bright new clothes and then I take all the clothes that I have been keeping and decide what 
can be made over for the children and what I want to make over for myself, then I decide on what colors 
I want to have. 

"I dye one color at a time and by noon I am all through and the clothes are on the line and dry by night. 

" Lots of things I dye whole without ripping up or taking out the linings unless I am going to make 
them over anyway. I have found it easy to dye straw and felt hats and trim them with ribbons and 
feathers that I have dyed some fresh bright color. I think that Diamond Dyes easily save me $100.00 a 
year. It 's so easy to use them and I actually look forward to my Diamond Dye Days. The Diamond Dye 
Annual has given me so many hints that I am glad to write for it." — Mrs. W. B. Martin, St. Paul, Minn. 

Diamond Dyes will renew the life and beauty of those discarded articles of feminine apparel 
which you have tucked away in bureau drawers and other corners of your home. 

Diamond Dyes will rejuvenate and invest with usefulness all of those soiled and faded ribbons, 
those feathers of ancient hue, those objects of art needlework, those fabrics from ripped up 
dresses, and lend the color-sparkle of fashion to any texture which a search of forgotten recesses 
may reveal. Nothing is lost that is brought in contact with Diamond Dyes. 

Important Facts About Goods to be Dyed: 

Diamond Dyes are the Standard of the World and always give perfect results. You must be sure that you get 
the r<?«/ Diamond Dyes and the kind oi Diamond Dyes adapted to the article you intend to dye. 

Beware of imitations of Diamond Dyes. Imitators who make only one kind of dye, claim that their 
imitations will color Wool, Silk, or Cotton ("all fabrics") equally ■well. This claim is false, because no 
dye that will give the finest results on Wool, Silk, or other animaliibres, can be used as successfully for 
dyeing Cotton, Linen, or other z/f^^/a^/irfibres. For this reason we make two kinds of Diamond Dyes, 
namely: Diamond Dyes for Wool, and Diamond Dyes for Cotton. 

Diamond Dyes for wool cannot be used for coloring Cotton, Linen, or Mixed Goods, but are especially adapted 
for Wool, Silk, or other animal fibres, which take up the dye qnickly. 

Diamond Dyes for Cotton are especially adapted for Cotton, Linen, or other vegetable fibres, which take up the 
dye slowly. 

"Mixed Goods," also known as "Union Goods," are made chiefly of either Cotton, Linen, or other vegetable 
fibres. For this reason our Diamond Dyes for Cotton are the best dyes made for these goods. 

Nanr nis<n<vn<l IIwa Annnol ITono Send us your name and address (be sure to mention your dealer's name 
New Diamond Dye Annual Free. ^^^ ^ell us whether he sells Diamond Dyes) and we will send you a 
copy of 'he new Diamond Dye Annual, a copy of the Direction Book, and 36 samples of dyed cloth, all FKEE. 
A ddress 

WELLS & RICHARDSON CO., BURLINGTON, VT. 



At all Reliable Dealers--Insist upon the Genuine 



ST. NICHOLAS LEAGUE 



Now does n't that picture show a Tantalizing Situa- 
tion ? What would jt)?/ do — take the St. Nicholas 
by force, or just wait and wait until the bribe of the 
candy got too persuasive ? 

Here ' s a good, though rather ' ' goody' ' catch-phrase — 

"St. Nicholas is good for young folks and for 
good young folks." 

Oh, see here ! Is n't this a clever drawing ? 




(jijioS-Wttlj its itiiiv- 
ti3iT)i5^€*orics,a>>i> 



T9e/ee(9TOBY-C0-0^, 



%€ 



The St. Nicholas lad here shown is quite in Max- 
field Parrish's style, is he not ? 

And look at these two. Don't you think that St. 
Nicholas has clever readers ? 




' atUer (.■5 ^-lo loTt\^e^ V>o\.Vv.e-ce<i. 
■J^ you.\,Wvn.V.\:Ka\:tKvi, vt, ^-vj-Vvoti, 



?5ie-cft.jr«Mav3n, 



eu^LCUXMIA'. 










'f'V 



Just these samples must prove to you that the adver- 
tising manager thinks rightly that the Competition was 
a great success. Thank you all for the part you took 
in it. 

There wds one letter in particular that pleased him — 
a letter from a young lady who, because she played so 
hard and fell down so often and sprained her arms and 
legs and nose, of course at different times, was called 
byher boy playmates "Tumbletom." When she wrotein 
answer to the competition she was in bed with a 
sprained hip — but she said that St. Nicholas was her 
constant companion and reading from the magazine 
made her forget her impatience to get out of doors. 
After the most careful examination the following entries 
won the prizes — 

Full-page advertise-ntent illustrated — 

First prize Florence Edna de Vere Billings. 
Second " Janet L. Shontz. 
Third " Clarence P. Reed. 

Catch-Pkrase — 

First prize Eleanor K. Peterson 
Second " Kathleen McKeag 
Third " Cassius M. Clay, Jr. 

Short Story — 

First prize Bertha Q. Mann 
Second *' Eva McClatchie 
Third " Mildred I. Roe. 

SPECIAL HONOR ROLL 

OF all three classes 



Henry L. Rosenfeld, Jr. 
Myrtle Conrad 
•Mrs. William Morris 
Marjorie Winrod 
Louise H. Krecker 
Frederick M. Fish 
Erwin Esper 
Charles Chanin 
Robert T. Williams 
Mary Roberts 
Helen Parsons 
Beryl Morse 
Norine Means 
Eleanor M. Nickey 
Mary Northrop 
Eleanor Johnson 
Ethel Anna Johnson 

Marshall B. 



Cutle 



Athena Hall 
Alice Clasen 
Avis E. Edgerton 
William E. Johnson, Jr. 
Stella S. Schwarz 
Berenice S. Vespres 
Mrs. G. M. Martin 
Marguerite Behman 
Dorothy Barrows 
Carl Clasen 
Marjorie E. Chase 
Bancroft Sitterly 
Gertrude Elizabeth Allen 
Hazel Grace Andrews 
Dorothy Eddy 
E. A. Goodale 
Robert K. Leavitt 



(See also page lo) 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



This Little BooK FREE. 





m^^ 






^^^ 4l'^b^ 




"^K^^ 


w 



A Keen, Snappy Little BooK 

To be Found in PacKag^es. 

A copy is placed in every third pkg. of 

Grape-Nuts 

One of the best known surgeons in America voluntarily w^rote a 2-page letter 
favorably analyzing the healthful suggestions in "The Road to Wellville." 

Some profound facts appear that are new to most persons. 

Get a pkg. and study the little book. It wins its own way, and adds to j'our 
stock of knowledge. 

"There's a Reason" 



Postum Cereal Co., Ltd., Battle Creek, Mich., U. S. A. 



13 



s^^ssssssssssssssssss 



ST. NICHOLAS STAMP PAGE 



i 






I 



IN March, 1907, the Netherlands issued a series of 
stamps, tliree in number, in honor of the three hun- 
dredth anniversary of the birth of its most famous ad- 
miral, Michael .Adriaanszoon Vian Ruyter. He was 
engaged in many battles with the English and French 




fleets from 1635 to 1676, sometimes winning and when 
this proved impossible, at least preventing the enemy 
from so doing. When he was killed at last in an en- 
gagement off the coast of Sicily, Louis XIV said of him 
that he could not help regretting the loss of a great man 
although an enemy. 

VARIATIONS IN UNITED STATES STAMPS 

ALL collectors possess or have access to copies of 
the standard catalogue which they consult in plac- 
ing stamps in their collections. There are many points 
in relation to the variations which occur in stamps 
which it is impossible to make plain in a catalogue, 
partly because of the lack of space which can be allotted 
to such explanations. Then, too, most collectors are 
familiar with such differences, so that such explanations 
would be superfluous for any except beginners. The 
lack of complete descriptions is particularly trouble- 
some under the heading of United States stamps, for 
these interest a very large number of young collectors 
and, because of the law against the use of complete 
cuts, it is difficult to make the distinctions clear. Our 
readers will be interested in a few notes explaining cer- 
tain things in relation to United States issues which 
will enable them to understand the variations more 
perfectly. We find under the head of the general issue 
of 1847 notes in relation to reprints and differences de- 
scribed between these and the originals. These dif- 
ferences result from the fact that when in 1875 it was 
desired to reprint these stamps in order to show them 
at the Centennial Exposition, it was found that the 
original dies and plates had been destroyed. There- 
fore, the government made new dies which were not 
the same as the originals. These stamps are some- 
times known as "government counterfeits." It is im- 
portant if one is buying uncancelled specimens to see 
that they are originals as these imitations are not worth 
much. The catalogue describes the differences clearly. 
It was a common practice in the early days to cancel 
stamps with pen and ink and, tlierefore, it is compara- 
tively easy to clean such stamps. Thus, it is necessary 
to examine closely all such specimens which are offered 
as uncanceled. There are probably very few actually 
uncanceled specimens of the 1847 issue in existence. 

VARIOUS types are found under the issues of 
1851-56. The origin of these "types" is 
mainly due to the iinperfect method then in use of 



transferring the die impression to the plates from which 
stamps were printed. When, in 1857, it was decided 
to perforate all stamps, the same plates which had been 
used for imperforate stamps were employed at first, 
but there was so little space between the stamps that it 
was necessary to make new plates. The first type of 
the three cent stamp of 1857 is exactly like all the 
three cent stamps of 185 1, while the second type is of a 
stamp prepared for perforating. Many collectors spend 
time in looking for specimens of the rare first issues of 
1861 among quantities of such stamps which they ob- 
tain. It is scarcely worth while, for practically none 
of these stamps have ever been found with the single 
exception of the ten cent ones. This variety was used in 
considerable numbers and if one gets hold of cor- 
respondence which was sent to foreign countries in 
1861 the stamp is almost sure to be found. 

THE twenty-four cent stamp is occasionally seen, but 
as the difference is one of shade only the expert 
alone can detect it. 

The three cent pink of the second issue is exceed- 
ingly difficult to find. Collectors at times send many 
stamps to experts in the hope that a "pink" may be 
found among them. This is not necessary, for when 
it is found the shade is perfectly plain andnoone would 
confound it with the ordinary light rose stamp. The 
issue of 1869 contains a fifteen cent stamp differing 
from the ordinary variety known as the "picture 
framed," by the fact that there are no lines drawn 
around the central picture. This is especially obvious 
in the lack of a tiny diamond which appears just at the 
center of the top of the picture in the more common 
variety. The differences in the issues of 1870 and 
1873 are made quite plain by the illustrations of the 
catalogue. It is necessary, however, to study these 
carefully and it is only in clearly printed specimens that 
some of the differences show. Later printings of these 
same stamps were made from the original plates by the 
American Bank Note Company. The differences be- 
tween these and earlier printings, although sometimes 
being seen in the colors, are mainly occasioned by the 
fact that a much softer variety of paper was used. The 
way to find out what this paper is, is to compare such 
a stamp as the five cent of 1882 which was never 
printed on any other paper with a seven cent stamp 
which is found only on the hard paper. Nearly all the 
department issues are also on the original hard paper, 
the few that were printed on soft paper being under 
the issue of 1879. 

ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS 

THE stamp of the Confederate States known as the 
ten cent " with outer line " was occasioned by 
what is known as a plate line between the stamps. This 
is perfectly plain althoi^gh usually seen on one or two 
sides of the stamp only because in cutting stamps 
apart very little pains were taken. CThe multiple water- 
mark in late issues of British Colonial stamps consists 
in a repetition of the water-mark throughout the paper, 
no care being taken, as in the case of former issues, to 
have one water-mark upon each stamp. 



SJ 



ia523^52^^2S 



14 



5SSS^SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS^SSSSSSSS2 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



"1847 A Tamous Brand of Silver Plate 

f^fkfrnc ^^^^^ ^°'" patterns of unusual character and artistic merit, finish and wear- 

KUULK^ i^G quality. Spoons, forks, knives, etc., marked " 1847 ROGERS BROS." 

DDAC** ^^^ ^°^^ ^^ leading dealers everywhere. Send for Catalogue " A-5 " 

Dllvw* showing all the newer as well as standard patterns. 

MERIDEN BRITANNIA CO., Merlden, Conn. 

(International Silver Co., Successor) 



ROGERS 




''Silver Plate ffiaf Wears " 



Now Ready! 



Needed by every collector! 



TWENTIETH CENTURY EDITION 
International Stamp Album 



Brought right up to date. 
Finer editions, $5.00 to 




For stamps issued since Jan. i, igoi. 
Post free prices: $1.75, $2.00, $3.< 
$25.00. Send for price list. 

SCOTT CATALOGUE FOR 1909 ! 

Now ready! Seepages. Describes and prices all stamps. Fully 
illustrated. 60c post free. 

QX A M OQ lAR different, including 
♦-^ l/VITiro IVO ne^y Panama, old 
Chile, Japan, curious Turkey, scarce Paraguay, 
Philippmes, Costa Rica, West Australia, several un- 
used, some picture stamps, etc., all for lOc. Big list 
and copy of monthly paper free. Approval sheets, 
50% commission. 
SCOTT STAMP & COIN CO., 18 East 23d St., New York 

100 stamps from 100 Countries 

«^ correctly placed in a New England Pocket 
Album 50c. Postpaid. 
■i'lA c*o»»»m»«. all different, including 8 

ixo aicunps unused pictorial 

and used from all quarters of the globe, loc. 40 Page 
Album, sc. 1000 Hinges, 5c. Approval sheets also sent. 
50% commission. "My Pet Hobby" and 1909 Price 
List FREE. Mention this magazine. 
New England Stamp Co., 43 Washington BIdg., Boston. 

CTAIV/IPQ ^*^8 ^" different, Transvaal, Servia, Bar- 
|3 1 /^IVlliJ zil, Peru, Cape G. H , Mexico, Nalal, lava, 
etc., and Album, 10c. lOOO Finely Mixed, '20c. 

65 different U. S., 25c. looo hinges, 5c, Agents wanted. 

50 per cent. List Free. I buy stamps. 

C. Stegman, 5941 Cote BriUlante Av., St. Louis, Mo. 

RADriAIXIQ Each set 5 cts.— 10 Luxemburg; 8 Fin- 
L>/AIVVJ.^\11'>0 land; 20 Sweden ; 4 Labuan ; 8 Costa 
Rica; la Porto Rico; 8 Dutch Indies; 5 Crete. Lists of 5000 
low-priced stamps free. CHAMBERS STAMP CO., 

Ill a Nassau Street, New York City. 

40 different U. S. for the names of two collec- 
tors and 2c. postage. 1000 iVIixed Foreign, 1 2C. 
4 Congo Coins, 25c. Toledo Stamp Co., Toledo, Ohio. 

STAMP ALBCM with 588 eenoine Stamps, incl. Eho- 
dCBia, Congo (tiger), Cliiua (dragon), Taemania (landscape), 
Janiaica (waterfalls), etc., only lOo. Aots. Wtd. 50per cent. 
Biff barjeain li*tt, coupoim and a net 01 rare 
StampK worth 80c. ALL FREE I We Buy Stamps. 
O. E. IIL'SSMAN CO., I>ep t. I, St. Louig, Mo. 

L'UHi'M,- 40 U. S. from 1851 to 1902 for the names of two col- 

^ JXiJiJ lectors and 2C. postage, no all diff. and album loc. 

D. CKOWELL STAMP CO., Toledo, Ohio. 




Stamps Free 




BOYS 



IF You Do Your Own Printing 

Send for Free Catalogue 
TYPE FOUNDRY, 238 N. Fourth St., 
PHILADELPHIA, PA. 



Both Teachers and Parents should be interested in hav- 
ing the best inspiration to good citizenship offered to the young 
of our day. Send for a description of 

Forman's Advanced Civics and see what everybody says 
about this remarkable book. Adopted exclusively for Chicago 
and in hundreds of schools and cities. 



THE CENTURY CO., 



Union Sq«iare, New York 




70 Different Foreign Stamps from i;;'i'ivu!'^ceyion,'''cfc°e! 
70 Different Foreign Countries Kon^.^faS'tius^^Monaci 

Newfoundland, Persia, Reunion, Servia, Tunis, Trinidad, Uruguay, etc. 
FOR ONLY 15 CENTS — A GENUINE BARGAIN 

with each order we send our pamphlet which tells all about " How to 
Make a Collection of Stamps Properly.*' Send your name and address 
for our monthly bargain list of sets, packets, albums, etc. 
QUEBN CITY STAMP & COIN CO., 7 SInton Bldg., Clnclnnnll. O. 

5 VARIETIES URUGUAY FREE with trial approval 
sheets. F.E. THORP Norwich N.Y. 

STAMPS! Our Leader: 1000 stamps many 
varieties, incl. Malay, Newfoundland, Philip- 
pines, Comoro, Congo, etc. only 15c. Stamp Al- 
bum, coupons, large new list, bargain lists all 
Free! Agts. wtd. 50%. We Buy Stamps. 
E. J. Schuster Co., Dept. 30, St. Louis, Mo. 

PUPP Stamp Packet for 2c postage and 2 collectors' names. 
rUCC Approvals 75% dis. KulonaStampCo., Dayton, Ohio. 

BR.ITISH Unsurpassed Stock — Lowest Prices. 

COL>ONIA.Iv Send for Catalog. We buy Stamps. 
STAMPS Colonial Stamp Co., 953 E. S3d St., Chicago. 

J^c, Ic. big, Ic. eagle, Ic. 
nickel, 2c., 3e. silver, 3c. nickel, 5c. silver. 
= Stamp and coin lists free. R.M.Lanq- 
ZBTTBL, 154 Elm St., opp.Yale Gymnasium, New Haven, Conn. 

Beginners, a 128 page illustrated Album and 250 var. stamps only 
Soc. Approval sheets 50% discount. F.J. Stanton, Norwich, N.Y. 

ST AIIFS. We five FREE 15 all different Canadians, 10 India 
and catalogue Free for names, address of two stamp collectors 
,and 2 cents postage. Special OfiFers, no two alike, 40 Japan 
_;c, <o Spain iic, loo U. S. zoc, 200 Foreign loc, 50 Australia 9c, 
10 Paraguay 7c, 10 Uruguay 6c, 17 Mexico loc, 6 Mauritius 4c, 4 
Congo 5c. Agents Wanted, 50% commission. 50 Page List Free. 
HARKS STADIP C09IPANY, Uept. N, Toronto, Canada. 



U. O. CUlNo nickel. 2c,.. 3c.. 





Irtrt rt finely mixed Hayti, Venezuela, etc., 20e; 100 diff. lOc; 
V W 20 French Colonies, 12c ; 6 Labuan, 12o ; 20 Brazil, 20c ; 
50 diff. unused Crete, etc., 16c ; 100 Stamps, album and hinges, 15c. 
Christmas present free. Victor Stamp Co., Norwood, Ohio. 

ff fll^ riflY ¥ ^ comfort children cold nights and drives. 
**" A 1/vf Irflrf J A beautiful doll dressed in red or light 
blue Billikin coat, which can be taken off, combined with best 
quality rubber water bag. Patty Comfort, cloth, one quart, $1.50. 
Patty Joy, unbreakable head, three pints, $2. 25. Send for circular. 
Patented. MISTRESS PATTY N. COMFORT, Andover, Mass. 

scs^-.'^®""^"*^' 20 cts. 

■^* ^Every loyal boy or girl should have their School, 

College or Club pennant. We make these to order, 
size 9x 1 8 inches, in best hair felt, with one to four initials, in any color. Send 
diagram of pennant, initials and colors with 20 cents in coin or stamps to 

PARK PENNANT CO., 2304 No. Park Avenue, Philadelphia. 

IVrite Dept.S. for special Club and Afrents" DiscU. Chance io make rnoney. 

Beautiful Post Cards. Increase your Collection. 20 all different, cities, 
scenery, comic, colored, etc. Only lOc. F. J. Stanton, Nonrich^N.Y. 

NEW SERVICE TO NEW ZEALAND AND AUSTRALIA 

Delightful South Sea Tours for Rest and Pleasure 

New Zealand, the world's wonderland, is now at its best. 
Geysers, Hot Lakes and other thermal wonders, surpassing 
the Yellowstone. The favorite S. S. MARiPosAsailsfrom San 
Francisco for Tahiti February 2, March 10, April 15, connect- 
ing with Union Line for Wellington, New Zealand. Tlie 
only passenger line from United States to New Zealand. 
Only $260, first-class to Wellington and back. To Tahiti and 
return, first-class, $125. — 28-(iay trip. For itineraries, write 
OCEANIC LINE, 673 Market Street, San Francisco. 



IS 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




Welch's 

uapeJuice 



Purity in grape juice means plain grape juice; 
that is, juice as you find it in the grape. 

Purity is lo^ by putting in preservatives of by 
adding coloring matter, or by diluting the juice or 
by lack of care in any ^ep in manufadture. 

Welch's Grape Juice is pure. The juice from 
the grapes we use needs nothing to prevent spoil- 
ing, nothing to heighten its color and nothing to 
enhance its food value. 

The grapes are inspected before they are 
w^ashed, washed before they are stemmed and 
stemmed before they are pressed. 

They are the choice^ Concords grown in the 
famous Chautauqua vineyards. We have learned 
how to transfer the juice from the luscious 
clu^ers to the bottle unchanged in any way. 

If your dealer doesn't keep Welch's, send $3.00 for 
trial dozen pints, express prepaid eait of Omaha. Booklet 
of forty delicious ways of using Welch's Grape Juice free. 
Sample 3-oz. bottle by mail, I Oc. 

The Welch Grape Juice Co., Westfield. N. Y. 



Charming Christmas Gifts 25 

GERMAN SILVER NOVELTIES 



CENTS EACH 
POSTPAID 




Trade Emblems of Perfect Design and Workmansbip 
Spare Your Purse While Pleasing Your Friends 

LIST OF MINIATURE TOOLS 



Monkey Wrench, ebony or ivory handle. 
Claw Hammer, metal handle. 
Cabinet Clamp, all metal. 
Barber's Razor, metal. 



Ball Pein Machinist Hammer, 

metal handle. 
Butcher's Steel, ivory and ebony handle. 
Telephone. 



Hand Saw, metal handle. 
Butcher's Cleaver, ebony and 

coral handle. 
Mason's Trowel, ebony handle. 



ACTUAL SIZE p^ „^j send coin, it is liable to loss in the mails. Send stamps, postal note or check 

MINIATURE NOVEI<TY CO., 130 East 2otli Street, New York 

16 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



u 



Sunshine for Rainy Days 



» 



KDcri 

TOTS 



OH, THE JOYS 

OF MAKING TOYS 

KOCH PAPER TOYS 



KDCn 
TOYS 





"Upon my word," says Grandfather, "here's a rea 
Grandfather's Clock : who made it? " You'll say, 
"I did, Grandfather, and see, it has a pendulum 
that really, truly swings." Grandfather is down 
on the floor himself, now, helping you with 
\ a wheelbarrow just the right size for a toy 
garden. "And see this be-aut-i-ful table, 
and, oh, Grandfather, it has a really drawer 
that pulls out, and everything. It took me only 
ten little minutes to get the parts together." Then 
you'll find the dearest little couch, and a baby's 
. high chair, and all the rest of the furniture: just 
too sweet for anything. 

When you get them all made they will last 
just as long — and then there is another set that 
comes with different pieces, and you will have 
even more fun with that. The color of the fur- 
niture is just right, and can be painted to match 
any room, and all the pieces match, so you can 
have your small house furnished all over with 
very nice Mission Furniture. 

And all this fun and all these toys come from the 
sets of Koch's Paper Toys which your toy man has 
for 50c. a set — ten pieces in each set. Do go right off 
and buy them. If he has n't got them, let us know 
and we '11 tell you where you can get them. 



STEPHEN O. URIE & CO. 

KOCH PAPER TOYS 
PHILADELPHIA, - PA. 





Jan. 1909 



17 



ST. NICHOLAS ADJ'ERTISEMENTS 




That boy of yours — is he get 
ting the right kind of a start? % He may be 
doing well in his studies — but then, you know, books 
can't make character. No matter how good he is at his lessons, 
they won't give him the clear eyes, the steady 
nerves, or the red blood th:it makes the really 
manly man. K The men who /^ built up 
our country and made it great ^^ among na- 
tions, spent their boyhood ^^in the open, 
with gun in hand, pre- /^^ paring them- 
selves for tlieir future y^P^deeds by devel- 
oping strong, steady ^^^nerves.keen eyes, 
and quick decision by ^^^the practice of marksmanship. 
Rifle — your boy /^^would like one. T There's 
more solid enjoy- j^jyiaent, 



Start Your Boy 
On the Right Path 



t There's the Daisy Air 



Daisy^F^B 



_ more happy hours, and more good, 

solid training for your boy in a Daisy Air Rifle than anything ^ 
else you could buy for him for anything like the same amount of money. 1 Why] 
a Daisy Air Rille? Well, it's a real gun, just like a man's magazine rifle, but it shoots^ 
witli compressed air instead of powder, and it's harmless. % Just as accurate, just^ 
as well balanced and proportioned, and he's just as well pleased. Cheaper, too — 1000^ 
shots cost ten cents. 11 Your boy wants a gun— just ask him and see. And while he^ 
is learning to shoot with the harmless Daisy he is preparing himself to handle a real ^ 
hunting rifle with safety when he grows older. A Daisy quickly makes expert _ 
marksmen. 11 Go to your dealer and ask him to let you see these Daisy Models: 

lint 'f "hrPilVllf '!f!,r?iV: 5 >^nv ' -000 =>>°' Daisy Automatic Magazine Rifle, $2.00 

funniest, breeziest stories of boy other Daisy Models $1.00 to $1.75 

life ever written entitled The Little DaUy Pop Gun. . . .... 25c ' 

Diary of a Dai.sy Boy." Send for »-""<= '""'J' » i^ v^u , . . . 
a free copy, also containing full particulars of how to join the Daisy 
Cadets, the new National Boys' Drill Corps. We also send complete 
rules of drill, and hints on marksmanship. 

DAISY MANUFACTURING CO. 
285 Union St.. Plymouth, Mich. 




Petei^s 

The Original Milk Chocolate 



Composed solely of the 
Finest Chocolate and Pure, 
Fresh, Cream-Laden Milk. 

Irresistibly Delicious" in Flavor 

is conceded by all who know 
"The World's Favorite Chocolate" 

LAMONT, CORLISS & CO., Sole Agents 
78 Hudson Street, New York 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 

"Why I Like 
Currant Bread 

In the November St. Nicholas we offered to send $5 
for the best two letters from school children telling 
why they like Currant Bread. A little girl named 
Elizabeth White, who lives in New York, and Master 
Eugene Lightner, of La Plata, Maryland, got the 
prizes. These are some of the things St. Nicholas 
readers wrote us: 

When I saw your advertisement in St. Nicholas I asl<ed the cook to make me some Currant Bread. 
And she made some and I thought it the best thing I ever tasted. — F. L., Cambridge, Mass. 
Mamma says it is the best lunch for school she has ever seen. — J. B., Concord, Mass. 
I like Currant Bread because it is as good as cake, and yet we can eat as much as we like. — ^H. 
■ M. H., Los Angeles, Calif. 
I have a little sister that cries if mamma does not make any Currant Bread. — E.L., La Plata, Md. 
I like Currant Bread when I come home from school hungry. It answers the purpose of both 
bread and cake. — A. S., Monmouth, 111. 

I got strong and fat eating Currant Bread and drinking milk. — M. L., Worcester, Mass. 
I like Currant Bread because I can eat all I want without anybody telling me to stop or that I 
will be sick. — H. P., Washington, D. C. 

I like Currant Bread because it is so good. For my school lunches it is such a pleasant changS 
from plain bread. . . Sometimes our whole lunch table of about ten girls will be eating Currant 
Bread at once. — E. W., New York City. 

Tou Would Like 
Currant Bread 

Send us a post-card asking for "Currant Recipes" and "Currant 
Bread Making." When you get them give them to Mother or 
Cook and ask if you cannot have some Currant Bread that is so 
healthful and that the other children like so much. 

HELLENIC BUREAU, 154 Nassau Street, New York 

19 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 




You can skate, slide or walk, without fear of chapped 
hands or roughened skin if you use Ivory Soap, rinse your 
hands and face in cold water and dry them thoroughly be- 
fore you venture out-of-doors. 

Nine tenths of the trouble that so many people have 
in the way of chapped hands and rough skin is due: first, 
to lack of care in drying the skin after washing; and second, 
to the use of soaps that contain "free" alkali. 

There is no "free" alkali in Ivory Soap. That is why it will not in- 
jure the finest fabric or the most delicate skin. That is why it should be 
used in preference to soaps that sell for three, four or five times its price. 

oap - 99t^o Per Cent. Pure. 




20 




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Good Old-Fashioned Apple Butter 



A fragrant, smooth and toothsome spread for pan- 
cakes, muffins, toast, etc., made in the old time way 
from Fresh, Juicy Apples in Libby's Spotless White 
Enamel Kitchens. 

Th'e apples are carefully assorted, washed and cooked, 
then strained free from every shred of skin, stem, 
seed or core. 

Then comes the skillful proportioning of the ingredi- 
ents — apples, cane sugar, boiled cider, together with 
the finest spices, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and other 
aromatic spices. 

The tins are enamel lined and are as hygienic as glass. 
An absolutely wholesome and delicious Apple Butter, 
guaranteed to keep until used. 

£cttially Pure and Inviting 

Libby's Canned Meats Libby's California Fruits 

Libby's Pickles and Olives Libby's Asparagus 

Libby's Preserves Libby's Condensed Milk 

Be sure you get Libby's — olbers are not as good 

Libby, McNeill ®. Libby, Cbicstgo 



C*i<4^«3^.. 







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HIGHEST IN HONORS 

BAKER'S Cocoa 



50 

HIGHEST 
AWARDS 

IN 
EUROPE 

AND 
AMERICA 

A perfect food, preserves 
health, prolongs life 

Walter Baker & Co., Ltd. 

Established 1780 DORCHESTER, MASS. 



MENNEN'S 

BORATED TALCUM 

TOILET POWDER 



^ftm 



m 



"■^•^L 



"Baby's Best Friend" 

and Mamma's greatest comfort. Mennen's relieves and 
prevents Chapped Hands and Chafing. 

For your protection the genuine is put up in non-re- 

fillable boxes — the " Box that Lox," with Mennen's face 

on top. Sold everywhere or by mail 25 cents — Sample free. 

1ti Mennen's Violet (Borated) Talcum Toilet Powder— It 

has the ecent of Fresh-cut Parma Violets. Sample free. 

GERHARD MENNEN CO.. Newark. N. J. 

II«nnen*i Sen Tan^ Toilet Powder, Oriental Odor ) N'o 

Uennen*s Borated Skin Soap (bine wrtipper) } Samples 

Specially prepared for the nuraery. Sold only at Stores. 



NO NEED OF 
JUGGLING 

wilRyour house-work 



SA POLIO 



L/i CLEANS 
EVERYTHING 

QUICKLY 

AVOID SUBSTITUTES 



THE DE VINNE PRESS. 




<*TIie Boyhood of Abraham Lincoln*' 

FEBRUARY, 1909 

ST NICHOLAS 

ILLUSTRATED AVAGAZINE 

FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 




# FREDERICK WARNE&CO- BEDFORD ST- STRAND- LONDON ® 

THE- CENTURY-CO - UNION - SQUARE -NEW- YORK 

FRANK H. SCOTT, PBESIDENT WILLIAM W. ELLSWORTH, SECRETARY UNION SQUARE, NEW YORK 

Copyright, 1909, by The Century Co.] (Trade-Mark Registered Feb. 6, 1907.) [Entered at N. Y. Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter 







fvie^^^^^ 



Kettle Rendered 




possesses the high 
quality and reputation 
of Swift's Premium 
Hams and Bacon. 

Famous for purity, uniformity, and 
goodness. 

Housewives find Premium Lard most 
satisfactory and economical for delicate 
pastry as well as all plain cooking. 

When you buy Swift's Premium you 
are sure of quality. 

Your dealer will recommend it. 

Sold in 3, 5 and 10 lb. pails. 

Swift & Company, U. S. A. 




MARCH, 1909 



ST NICHOLAS 

LLUSTRATED AVAGAZINE 

FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 




* FREDERICK WARNE&CO- BEDFORD ST- STRAND- LONDON # 

THE- CENTURY- CO -UNION -SQUARE -NEW- YORK 

FRANK H. SCOTT, PnESroSNT WILLIAM W. ELLSWORTH, SECRETABY UNION SQUARE, NEW YORK 

Copyright, 1909. by The Century Co.] (Trade-Mark Registered Feb, 6, 1907.) [Entered at N. Y. Post Office as Second Class Mail Matter 





r^ 






Corn Feeding 
in the Country 

is responsible for the fine flavor, 
delicate grain and tenderness of 

wif ts Premium Hams and Bacon 

The infinite care, expert inspection and selection 
. \ w^ith Swift's modern, cleanly methods 
^K,^ of manufacture, make and keep 
/ ' quality and flavor always to the 
same high standard. 

Insist upon ''Swift's Premium" 

You will always be sure of uniform 
quality, flavor and tenderness. 

Swift & Company, 
U. S. A. 




ST. NICHOLAS ADFERTISEMENTS 



I 



These Four Books will l>e found specially suitable for children of 7 years or under 



Christmas Every Day 



By W. D. HO WELLS 



A delicate and tender story about a little girl who " wishes it might be Christ- 
mas every day." Her father tells her why it cannot be. 

Illustrations and Pictorial Borders in Color. Square Quarto, Cloth, $1.75 



By GERTRUDE SMITH 



Little Ned Happy and Flora 

To almost every child at some time comes the illusion of an imaginary play- 
mate, who shares all the fun and hvens up solitary hours. Ned Happy is only a 
pretended little boy, but a very merry one. Sunny and sweet, a true child's book. 

Illustrations in Full Color and Pictorial Cloth Cover. Quarto, $ 1 .30 net 

Wee Winkles at the Mountains By gabrielle e. jackson 

Jolly, chubby little Wee Winkles is almost seven years old in this story, and 
her brother Wideawake is nearly ten. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. Cloth, $1.25 



By PAUL DE MUSSET 



Mr. Wind and Madam Rain 

An enchanting tale from old Breton folk-lore which Paul de Musset has filled 
with charming fancies. Rollicking humor and vigorous, almost boisterous, action 
make it refreshingly different from the conventional fairy tale. 

^ Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, 60 cents 



These Three Books v^ill be found specially suitable for children of about 7 to 11 years 



In the Open By william o. stoddard 

Jolly exploits and youthful pranks in the life out of doors. The stories tell of 
Indians, fishing, hunting, camping, roaming the broad country under the open 
sky. They are not desperately adventurous tales, but breezy, exciting. 

Illustrated. Cloth, 60 cents 



The Fifteen Decisive 
Battles of the World 

From Marathon to Waterloo, and 
Eight Others : Quebec — Yorktown — 
Vicksburg — Gettysburg — Sedan — -Ma- 
nila Bay — Santiago— Tsu-Shima (The 
Sea of Japan). The present volume 
contains the text of Sir EDWARD 
CREASY' S famous work and eight 
other battles in addition. 

With Maps. Post 8vo, $1.25 




Adventures at Sea 

By Rear-Admiral T. H. STEVENS 
and Others 

Here are strange sea stories of whale 
hunts, wrecks, fires, storms, castaways, 
and thrilling rescues. Most of them are 
founded on fact, for the reason that 
nothing could be more romantic than 
things which have really happened on the 
sea. 

Illustrated. ]2mo. Cloth, 60 cents 



HARPER & BROTHERS 



Feb. 1909 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



All the Books on this page will be found specially suitable for children of about 12 Vo 14 years 



Miss Betty of New York 




The Young Alaskans By emerson hough 

Three Alaskan boys go to Kadiak Island on a hunting and fishing trip, 
and are cast away in a dory amid danger and hardship. There is a run of 
salmon in the river near their camp ; they shoot one of the great brown 
grizzlies of Kadiak; they hunt the sea-otter, and watch a tribe of Aleutians 
kill a whale, besides many other adventures. The story has the atmosphere 
of the sea and the great open spaces of the North. Lively in style and truthful 
in its descriptions, THE YOUNG ALASKANS will surely appeal to 
boys and to those who are particular about what boys should read. 
Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $1.25 

By ELLEN 
DOUGLAS DELAND 

A charming story of the friendship and adventures of Betty and Chris. They leave New York for 
the country. Of the incidents of country life, Chris's loyal stand for his father's memory, and his 
plunge into the world alone, there is a series of vivid pictures characterized by all the author's sym- 
pathy, vivacity, and humor. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $ 1 .25 

The Eagle Badge By holman day 

An exciting story of adventure in the lumber woods and the log-drive, where the hero makes some 
strange friends. Were they patriots or smugglers, secret-service men or counterfeiters .? What was 
the fate of the plucky young man .' The story tells of these and other events in this wonderful country 
of the pines. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $ 1 .25 

Uncle Sam*s Business By crittenden marriott 

This book tells how Uncle Sam carries out the orders of his citizens — in such ways as their mail 
business, bank business, draining of lands, tests of pure food and poor water, and scores of other 
services for their comfort, convenience, and welfare. No tale of Arabian nights could compare with 
the magic of such work as this. The style of the narrative is clear and simple, and it is all done with 
energy and enthusiasm. Post 8vo, Cloth, $1.25 

Under the Great Bear By kirk munroe 

One of the very best of Mr. Monroe's great bqoks for boys. A young mechanical engineer goes off 
to Newfoundland and Labrador for an iron and copper company. On the way an iceberg wrecks the 
ship; he drifts alone on a raft and is picked up. He lands where the French and English are rivals in 
the lobster-canning business. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $1.25 

HARPERS How to Understand Electrical Work 

By WILLIAM H. ONKEN, Jr. ..7-;,fi;;;?/Ll1?:w,r- and JOSEPH B. BAKER. u.^tZ^^t:r..y 

A simple explanation of electric light, heat, power, and traction in daily life. This book tells us 
how and why " the wheels go round," when the force that drives them is electricity. We know that 
trolley cars are impelled by an electric wire, we recognize the third rail of electric trains, we hear of 
powerful electrical furnaces, and at home we read and sometimes cook by electricity. 

Illustrated. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $1.75 

The Kidnapped Campers By flavia a. c. canfield 

Almost wholly a story of fishing, camp-life, and the outdoor activities that boys love, and it has a 
very novel plot. Archie, the young hero, is the son of wealthy parents, and is spoiled and fretful, so 
that they go to- consult a bluiF old country doctor about him. Archie is lounging before the house one 
day when a young man, called "Uncle Weary," appears, tells him he is to take him on a trip, gains 
the boy's confidence, and, picking up another boy, they all start off into the country. Then their 
adventures begin. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $ 1 .23 

HARPER & BROTHERS 



[The entire contents of this Magazine are covered by the general copyright, and articles must not be reprinted without special permission.] 

CONTENTS OF ST. NICHOLAS FOR FEBRUARY, 1909. 

Frontispiece. "Kathleen." From a Painting by Harrington Mann Page 

When Kent Played Engineer. Story Charles P. Cleaves 291 

Illustrated by I. W. Taber. 

Hard to Explain. Verse Clara OdeU Lyon 295 

Illustrated by Reginald Birch. 

The Lass of the Silver Sword. Serial Story Mary Constance Dubois 296 

Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. 

The Elves' Calendar— February. Verse s. Virginia Levis 303 

Illustrated by Albertine Randall Wheelan. 

How It Feels to Fly! Sketch C H. Claudy 304 

Illustrated by photographs by the Author. 

A Modern Red Riding Hood. Verse c. J. Buda 311 

Illustrated by the Author. 

Historic Boyhoods Rupert Sargent Holland 

VII. Abraham Lincoln 312 

Illustrated by W. J. Scott. 

The Word of a Gentleman. Verse Nora Archibald Smith 316 

Illustrated by W. J. Scott. 

The Little Princess of the Fearless Heart. Story B. J. Daskam 318 

Illustrated by E. M. Wireman. 

Raccoon and Boy. Picture Culmer Barnes 325 

A Son of the Desert. Serial Story Bradley GUman 325 

Illustrated by Thornton Oakley. 

When I Grow Up. Verse W. W. Denslow 

The Cowboy 333 

Illustrated in colors by th^Author. 

The Gloves. Sketch Georglana Homer 337 

Illustrated by Julie C. Pratt. 

A Race in Fairy-land. Picture Harrison Cady 340 

Captain Chub. Serial Story Ralph Henry Barbour 341 

Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. 

The Crafty Crocodile. Verse G. F. Hiii 349 

Illustrated by Leslie Brooke. 

Teasles. (" Dr. Daddiman " Stories) Dr. John C. Schapps 353 

Illustrated by Fanny Y. Cory. 

St. Nicholas Cooking Club. Verse Charlotte Brewster Jordan 

For February Festivities 356 

Decorations by W. J. Scott. 

A Teddy Bear Valentine. Picture Albertine Randall Wheelan . 358 

My Sled . Verse Gertrude Crownfield 358 

Illustrated by E. P. Hill. 

Nature and Science for Young Folks 360 

Illustrated. 

The St. Nicholas League. Awards of Prizes for Stories, Poems, 

Drawings, and Photographs 368 

Illustrated. 

The Letter-Box 380 

The Riddle-Box 383 

The Century Co. and its editors receive manuscripts and art viaterial^ submitted Jbr publica- 
tion^ only 07t the understanding that they shall not be responsible for loss or injury thereto 
•while in their possession or in transit. Copies of manuscripts should be retained by the authors. 

Subscription price, ®3. 00 a year; sing^le number, 25 cents. The half-yearly parts of ST. NICHOLAS end with the 
October and April numbers respectively, and the red cloth covers are ready with the issue of these numbers ; price 50 cents, by mail, post- 
paid; the two covers for the complete volume, $1.00. We bind and furnish covers for 75 cents per part, or $1.50 for the complete 
volume. In sending the numbers to us, they should be distinctly marked with owner's name, and 54 cents (27 cents per part) should 
beincluded in remittance, to cover postage on the volume if it is to be returned by mail. Bound volumes are not exchanged for numbers. 

Persons ordering a change in the direction of Magazines must give both the old and the new address in full. No change can be 
made after the 5th of any month in the address of the Magazine for the following month. PUBLISHED MONTHL K, 

FRANK H. SCOTT, President. •w^--^-t ^m^i«v>wiwv^ w r^*^ vr • r* m,T ^» ■m m.-r »» 

WILLIAM w. ELLSWORTH, Secretary. THE CENTURY CO., Uniou Square, New York, N.Y. 



ST. NICHOLAS ADVERTISEMENTS 



(1^»\ 




0. ^ 
iTornia 

Limiiea 



T^e on iv hain C^icaffo io Soujj^ew 
Ca{i/oi:nia via any line exclusiYe/ y 
/or /it?si class Irayel A/lo^6ers 
also cartylourtsl sleepers ai)d 
second' class passenaers 

na>$ a, imlinati/or 



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trana v^anyon Amona 
xne w^orlavS wonder 

In w^inxcric5<$ 
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Deluxe booklets of "tram and (rip on recpest 
New equipmeni "this season 
WJ-Black,Pass.TrafficM§r.AT&)5-F%System 
1114 5 -Railway Exclian^e - Chicago . 



37-3« 



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! 
1 

1 
1 


1 


'-J^^^^^^^^^^^^Kl. . ..J^^^^^^K-. 




1 


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Ol'^ ' >~^^^^^^^H 


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'- 


*> 







"KATHLEEN." 

From a painting by Harrington Mann. 



ST. NICHOLAS 



Vol. XXXVI 



FEBRUARY, 1909 



No. 4 



WHEN KENT PLAYED ENGINEER 



BY CHARLES P. CLEAVES 



"Now, Kent, oil her up and have on a fair head 
of steam and by the time No. lo shows smoke 
over the hills we '11 get back from dinner and 
follow on. She 's late, as usual." 

The engineer swung down from the cab, joined 
the conductor, and together they took the path 
across the field toward the town. 

George Kent, a stalwart, nineteen-year-old 
fireman employed on a shifting engine at the 
terminal, was substituting on the locomotive ot 
No. 13, northbound day freight which usually 
makes Alappa, the home of the engineer and 
conductor, about noon. Here it had the usual 
orders to wait for No. 10, a passenger train, also 
northbound; after which they had a clear track 
on which to make a distant station. 

The freight, too long to take the siding, lay on 
the main line north of the station. This would 
allow the passenger to run in and take the 
switch. 

It was a cold winter day. The country was ma- 
jestic under the heavy robes of snow. The brake- 
men were gathered over their dinner-pails in the 
caboose. Kent ate his lunch while oiling and 
polishing, then poked inquisitively about the 
train. He was inventive and ingenious by na- 
ture, and recent improvements in the rolling 
stock of this line interested him greatly. The 
latest of these was the automatic coupler, which, 
as everybody said, was bound to do away with 
much bodily injury and loss of life. 

Carelessly disregarding the fact that the train 
lay on a steep grade, Kent fumbled at the coup- 
Copyright, 1909, by The Century Co, 
291 



ler till it suddenly unlocked and twenty cars, re- 
leased, stirred and slouched away. An inch of 
space awoke Kent to the folly of his act — too late ! 
He sprang to the ladder of the nearest car and 
set the hand-brake. But, unluckily, there was a 
coupling three cars below that had not yet been 
joined, and so thirteen cars broke away and 
quickened their pace. The door of the caboose 
opened and the startled brakemen tumbled out. 

Kent woke to action. In a flash the conse- 
quences of his act stood before him. Southward 
lay eight miles of down grade to the edge of 
"Sawyer's Mountain," then a gradual rise of two 
miles around the foot of the hill, with a sharp 
curve midway, called the Angle ; beyond this rise 
was down-grade again, then a straight level for 
miles away. Somewhere on that level stretch. 
No. 10 was racing to make up lost time— racing 
toward danger and not suspecting it at all. 

The wild freight might reach the mountain 
curve, leap the track, and plant its wreckage in 
the path of the approaching train, or, barely pos- 
sible, it might mount the grade and swoop down 
upon the passenger ; but most probable and most 
to be dreaded was the chance that the two might 
meet on the track around the mountain. Loco- 
motives approaching each other might be 
warned by whistle or smoke. But this was a 
stealthy foe, silent except for the rumble of its 
wheels, that was now sweeping away to plant it- 
self, derailed, in the path of No. 10 or to spring 
upon it without warning. 

Kent ran toward the locomotive. Leighton, an 

All rights reserved. 



292 



WHEN KENT PLAYED ENGINEER 



[Feb., 



old New Hampshire brakeman, caught scent of 
the situation, followed, and sprang into the cab at 
Kent's heels. The others held back and stared 
dubiously. 

"Give her draught, Charlie ! Stir up the 
coal," muttered Kent through quivering lips. He 
reversed the engine, opened the throttle and 
forced the remaining cars twenty feet down the 
grade, below the switch. Leighton uncoupled and 
the engine sprang ahead. The switch clanged, 
Leighton climbed back into the cab, and the loco- 
motive backed over the siding to the main line, 
south of the cars : but bv the time the main track 




1,1.1 ,-. Ivl. Itll KM KI:l()KE •nil-.Y .MAKK lH K NEXT CURVE, SAID LEIGHTON 



was reached and the engine leaped away in pur- 
suit, the wild freight was several minutes away 
and out of sight behind the first curve. 

For a mile there was silence, Leighton busy at 



the fire and Kent sitting with hand at the throttle, 
staring eagerly ahead for sight of the runaway, 
now lurching drunkenly over a forest-hidden 
track. Around a second curve the engine 
wheeled before they caught sight of the freight. 
"There they are !" cried Kent. 
"They 've got a sightly start of us," observed 
Leighton dryly. "Cal'latin' to plant themselves 
on the Angle, I guess, and tip us off into the 
snow. We '11 have to creep around pretty sly." 

"We have three miles yet for winning," repHed 
Kent. "I did n't think it possible for them to get 
such a start. Think of a heavy freight rattling 
away from a clean-limbed 
engine !" 

"Their heft is what does 
it. Faster 'n' faster, every 
minute. 'Course, we 'd 
ketch up in time, but we 
hain't got all creation to 
move in. Better give her a 
little more rein, George, on 
this straight track. Pull 
out the throttle, boy ! Let 's 
ketch 'em before they make 
the next curve. Do you 
know what 's in them 
cars?" said Leighton. 

"No. There was a car 
of sheep forward on the 
train. Were n't there two 
horses— somewhere — with a 
keeper? Noyes of Sank- 
ton, I think." 

Leighton stood colorless 
for a moment, trying to 
grasp in mind the location 
of the live-stock cars as 
they were coupled in the 
train. Then he pointed to- 
ward the runaway. 
"There they be." 
A low cry burst from 
Kent's lips and the hand 
on the throttle trembled. 
Leighton turned away. So 
much he loved horses that 
to him there were three 
human beings pent up in 
that flying prison. But 
the thought that raged in 
Kent's mind and turned him 
sic